Posts Tagged ‘Cub’

The following conversation happened on the train while The Geek was taking the kids to school the other day:

Cub (to The Geek): Dad’s have beards. You have a beard so you’re a dad.

Bug: Dan’s dad doesn’t have a beard.

Cub: He’s not a dad, then.

Flawless logic, don’t you think?

If Your Dad Doesn’t Have a Beard Then You’ve Got Two Mums


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So, this is how I see it: Scarring your kids for life is inevitable. You might as well have fun doing it, yeah? So, it is with this in mind that The Geek and I may be guilty of the following stellar moments of extreme dorkiness (in no particular order):

1)  One night at the dinner table for reasons neither of us can remember, one of us quoted Bohemian Rhapsody. Then the other quoted the next line. Before we knew it, we were singing most of the main part of the song complete with Wayne’s World-esque head banging. Bug just sat and stared at us like we’d suddenly grown an extra head each … or like we were complete dorks.

2)  Having only just turned 5, sometimes Bug doesn’t pay much attention when he dresses himself and puts his pants on backwards. When this happens, The Geek and I often sing Jump by Kris Kross (complete with jumping, of course). Again, we are met with that “you just grew an extra head and/or are total dorks” look from Bug. He’ll be very practiced at that look by the time he gets to his teens when he will permanently have it glued to his face …

3)  The Geek started a habit of singing “I’m gonna tickle little <insert child’s name here>” to the tune of Cat’s “I’m gonna eat you, little fishy”* when about to tickle one of the kids. They still don’t know that it isn’t an original song by their father.

4)  We had risotto for dinner tonight. I spent an embarrassing amount of time attempting to teach Cub (2 years old) to clap and squeal “Risotto, risotto, risotto!” in reference to The Catherine Tate Show’s Christmas special in which David Tennant plays a trendy, effeminate Ghost of Christmas Present. ** He’s almost got it … we just need to work on the hand clapping.

5)  In response to Bug’s frequent declarations that “it’s not FAIR!” I have been known to quote “Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.”***

6)  Bug tells us that he’s “bored” or that things are “boring” when it is clear that “boredom” is not actually what he means. Example: He says he’s bored with eating when he probably really means that he’s full and doesn’t want to eat anymore. In response to this, I often reply: “You say that word so much. I don’t think it means what you think it means.” ***

7)  The boys have a book about a boy and an octopus that he saves from a fisherman’s net. In the end are some facts about octopi. Octopi, it seems, have three hearts. The following exchange was quite common in our household when the book was first introduced: The Geek: “How many hearts does the Doctor have?” Bug: “Two!” The Geek: “How many hearts does an octopus have?” Bug: “Three!”

8)  Bug has a habit of saying “mummy!” in exactly the same tone and inflection as the kid from The Empty Child episode of Doctor Who. It’s freaky and even The Geek noticed it despite the fact that he is not a huge fan of Doctor Who and rarely watches it with me. We have been known to respond to Bug’s whines of “mummy!” with “Go to your room!” followed immediately by hysterical giggling. Bug, as you might have guessed, generally responds by giving us that Look I have been describing.

Now it’s your turn. Confess your dorky/nerdy parenting moments to me!

Edited to add: I should clarify that the dorky/nerdy parenting moments need not be only from the perspective of the parent. Did your parents do anything to you that made you make the face that Bug is now so practiced at? 🙂

*   If you don’t know this is from Red Dwarf then … well, what the hell are you doing reading my blog? Go educate yourself, damn it! 😉

**  Watch the clip here:

*** I’m assuming everyone recognizes The Princess Bride references here. I mean, doesn’t everyone have that movie memorized? IF you don’t then, as with Red Dwarf, what are you doing wasting time reading my blog when you could be watching The Princess Bride?

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This week is World Breastfeeding Week. Most years, the Family Nurturing Centre in Mosman Park does something special to commemorate it. I did pregnancy yoga through both pregnancies at the Family Nurturing Centre and mother/baby yoga with Bug. Once Cub arrived, Bug was just old enough to wreak too much havoc in the centre so I didn’t really get to go to the mother/baby sessions with him. Anyway, I’m part of the community and usually go to the WBW events that they plan.

This year, they planned a train ride from Mosman Park to the city where we would convene for a friendly lunch. They called the media and the West Australian photographer planned to meet us at the city station. Despite the fact that Cub rarely feeds while we are out and about, I decided to go. When I got there, I was a little unsure as to whether I was in the mood for something so social. I did not know most of the people there and felt a little out of place. It got better, though, and soon I was enjoying myself. At the Mosman Park Train Station, Cub surprised me by asking for “moke.” So, ironically, the kid who tends not to feed in public anymore was the first to get on the boob wagon, so to speak, for the day. Of course, our picture got taken a gazillion times as everyone (but me, it seems) brought their camera. 🙂 Cub fed again on the train and more pictures were taken (namely, the one I used in this post). We got to the city and met the newspaper photographer who had us walk towards him while he laid on the floor to shoot from below. It was odd, he had us do it many times … I still don’t know if the picture made the paper.

While we were at the cafe for lunch, there was a television news camera and someone taking statements … I still don’t know if any of this made the news as I never watch television news and no one’s told me if they saw it. Apparently this whole thing was very timely as a legislation spelling out the rights of a woman to breastfeed in public is experiencing difficulties in government at the moment. Apparently the legislation is all but passed but the Liberals (Australia’s conservatives … they don’t seem to understand the meaning of the word “liberal”) are holding it up at the last minute.

Admittedly, I am not as passionate about all of this as I once was. Hell, I’m finding it difficult to be passionate about much these days but that is a different story. Now that Cub is nearly two, my breastfeeding journey is nearing it’s end. I don’t anticipate him feeding for much more than a year longer, give or take a bit. My parenting attentions are moving on to the next steps. My focus is expanding from being a full time carer of my small people to including a life outside the home and beyond breastfeeding and cloth nappies.

Having said that, though, attending this event reminded me *why* I attend these things and why I should continue to do so. When the photo at the top of this post was uploaded onto Facebook, I set it as my profile picture. I like the photo. I don’t look as horrible in it as I normally tend to in photos. Cub looks cute. It’s a nice photo … it just happens to include breastfeeding. The response I got for this photo is what really hit me. I had several people praising me for the very act of using it as my profile photo. I had forgotten how controversal a mere picture of a breastfeeding mother and child could be. Then a friend who I have not seen since before she had children (her twins are now 8 or 9) told me of the discrimination she endured as a breastfeeding mother in Alaska. She was sent to breastfeed the twins on the floor of the public toilet in Wal-Mart!

I am privileged. I have never experienced discrimination for breastfeeding my children in public. And I have done it a lot, all over Perth, on public transport and often feeding a toddler who looks “too old to breastfeed” by current uninformed mainstream attitudes. It’s stories like the one my friend told of her experience that make me do what I do. It’s why I have made it a point never to hide when my children want a breastfeed (except on the rare occasion that only a quiet room will help him focus on what he’s doing). Not that I am an exhibitionist and make a big deal of it. Quite the opposite. I simply do what I need to do for my children regardless of where we are. I try not to let the mainstream attitude get to me. I believe strongly that the more people see women breastfeeding their children, the less of an issue it will be. I won’t hide, I won’t stand for breastfeeding discrimination and I will continue to attend events like the one I did on Sunday.

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It ocurred to me that some of you might be wondering how things have progressed with Cub’s speach since this post.  So, I thought I should do a brief update. He’s talking! He literally slept through the night one night (even a bit of a sleep in!), woke up and started adding words left, right and centre! He has loads of words now but out favourite is “watermelon.”

He’d been walking up to me and insisting on making this strange noise/tongue action over and over again for weeks. He’d get quite animated about it but I had no freaking clue what he was saying … until The Geek finally hit on it: he was saying “watermelon!” We think it’s pretty hilarious so we took a video of him saying it which I will post here for your viewing pleasure. Perhaps I should have put a “proud mama post” warning on this post? The only catch is that we cannot work out how to rotate the video. The Geek was trying but I think the project got permanently shunted to the “to do” list and I just really want to get this post up. So, appologies for the sideways kid … he’s still cute anyway …

And here, because I just couldn’t resist sharing the cute, is a video of both kids dancing to their favourite song, Rock The Nation by Michael Franti. Check out Cub’s backward/forward running man move! (Excuse the messy house … I have two small kids, it happens)

PS If any of you know how to rotate a video, please share the knowledge!

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Are You a Girl or a Boy?

Yesterday, I had to take Cub to the Dr as he has an ear infection (the Dr confirmed my diagnosis and provided us with the appropriate prescription). The medical centre that we go to is in a building that includes some office space. Right next door is the pharmacy and then, if you leave the pharmacy and walk around to another door in the same building, you can enter the office space area of the building. While we were waiting for the prescription, Cub wet his nappy so, after paying for the meds, I took the kids around to the office part of the building in search of a toilet or somewhere to do a nappy change. As predicted, the toilets didn’t include a baby change table. So, I used the sink to wet the cloth wipe I had and took the kids out into the lobby area. I found a little alcove that was out of the way and somewhat under a flight of stairs. It was visible from the upper floor but it suited our purposes. I laid Cub down for his change.

Next thing I know, I hear someone saying “Oh, hello” from above. There was a woman standing on the upper floor, looking down on what I was doing. What followed was a very strange “conversation.” I said something to the effect that I had nowhere else to change him and apologized (you know, that apologizing for one’s existence that we women do for no apparent reason). Then she just stood there, watching for a while. Um, what does this woman want? She’s staring at me change my son’s nappy? And then, as if she realized that standing there staring was odd, she started rambling about her kids and asked Bug if he is a boy or a girl. Sigh. We get this a lot.  He’s got longish, blond curls, big blue eyes and long eyelashes. They say he’s “pretty for a boy” and other inane statements to that effect. As weird and off-putting as the fact that the woman was *simply standing there, staring at me changing my child’s nappy*, I found the “are you a girl or a boy” question far more annoying.

Usually in those situations, I mumble that he’s a boy and try to avoid the person or line of conversation. Path of least resistence and all that. But, I’ve been thinking I shouldn’t. I tried broaching the subject with Bug last night. I told him that if someone asks him that, he should just say “Why does it matter?” Because, you know what? It doesn’t fucking matter! If you can’t tell what gender or sex a person is, then it doesn’t fucking matter! You can usually figure it out from context in the conversation or something … and, if you can’t figure it out that way, BIG FUCKING DEAL. It’s not important enough to blurt out that exceedingly annoying question. Way to give a kid a complex, for fuck’s sake. Dear child, what you have between your legs is The Most Important Thing About You! Well, I say “fuck off” to that!

It’s a hard one and I’m not really sure Bug understood the “why does it matter?” response suggestion and I doubt he’ll remember to use it. I’m not sure exactly how to handle this, to be honest. I just know that it annoys the hell out of me. I’m not trying to raise my children completely gender neutrally because I really don’t think that’s possible … However, I would like people to stop imposing their strange, rigid gender ideas on my kids. SO WHAT if he’s “pretty?” BOYS CAN BE PRETTY, DAMN IT! And don’t get me started on the “good thing he’s a boy” comments in regards to the scar on Cub’s forehead …

Add to all this my completely failed attempt to explain to Bug transexuality and the mechanics of why women and not men give birth and it becomes obvious that I’ve had a bit of a liberal parenting stumbling block this week. Ok, so four years old is probably a little early to try to get that complex (especially when I’m not exactly an expert about trans issues myself) but it came up in conversation so I took the opportunity! At least I tried, right? Right? *headdesk*

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Talk To Me!

I am, once again, worried about Cub’s speech … or lack there of. He’s 19 months old and he doesn’t talk much. Well, he does but not much of it is in English. He’s bright, alert and communicates well enough … just not so much in English. He understands us and follows more than just simple instructions (as in, there are often a few steps involved which he seems to hear, understand and obey). He’s good at making himself understood by means other than English words. He’s also a lot more interactive with other children during play … more so than his brother at this age despite Bug being quite the social butterfly. By this I mean, he does less of the typical toddler playing side by side kind of stuff and more actual interactive type games with other kids (usually older than him). He’s also very physical. He climbs everything, breaks into stuff, explores toys (by this I mean he takes them apart to see how they work) and has quite surprising fine motor abilities for his age. To date, his list of words are as follows: “gumpa”(grandpa), “buhbuh” (ball), “chhsss” (cheese), “shhh” (shoes), “yeah,” “roro” (Ergo baby carrier), and a few other isolated moments of imitation. He also shakes his head “no” and uses various other gestures to get his meaning across. Still, though, his favourite “word” is something that sounds a bit like “ooh-ow-wah” and he uses it for just about everything.

Now, my gut says he’s ok, just slower on the uptake than others for this particular skill. He’s more physical than his brother was at this age (and his brother was a bit late to speech, too) so perhaps he’s just more concentrated on that part of development at the expense of speech for now. He’ll find his voice eventually.

But, the external influences are what make me doubt my gut. The other kids speaking more than him, my friend who’s started showing concern for her 20 month old who’s at a similar point … and the other friends who’ve advised her that maybe having a check up is a good thing.

I know he can hear, I’ve had proof of that (he can hear someone mentioning cheese or bath from across the house). I know he seems fine in every other aspect of development that I can think of. It’s just this one little thing that brings out the worry. I wonder what could be done? Will it really help? I mean, when you “intervene” with such a young child, how much of the eventual speech is due to the intervention and how much is due to the inevitable catch up in development … something the child would have done anyway, in his own time? The Geek is happy to wait and let him go at his own pace. I want to be happy with that but I keep hearing that nagging voice in my head telling me that perhaps he needs nudging, perhaps letting him go at his own pace is the wrong choice this time, perhaps I am failing him by not *doing something.*

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A Day In The Life

So, I don’t post very interesting things on this blog often. You want to know why? Because I’m not very interesting right now … nor do I think I ever *really* was anyway.

What do I do all day? Well, let’s see: I don’t do enough housework, for one. I mostly sit on my ass and think about the housework I should be doing. Instead of doing said housework, I watch TV on the laptop (if the baby is napping & the toddler is otherwise occupied), chat to people I’ve never met via the internet (some of whom are awesome, it must be said. *waves to Arwyn*), or my current vice: read fanfic. Or, you know, I might even be writing a pathetic blog post about my sad existence which I have titled after a Beatles song. In between all that riveting stuff, I get interrupted to deal with minor altercations between the kids, help Cub off the cubby house (because he can climb up, but not down and won’t use the slide), change nappies, make lunch or snacks, etc, etc.

I should get out of the house but often it’s just too hard to get both kids organized. And then, when I do get out of the house, whatever there is to do often costs money that we shouldn’t spend. I should be doing more housework but it’s just too hard to start anything when I know I’ll be interrupted. Well, that and I have no motivation to do much of anything. Motivation is very underrated. You don’t realise how important it is until you lose it.

It’s not all bad. I mean, I manage to load the dishwasher and do a load or two (at least) of laundry a day. Not that I actually fold any of it, mind. But at least it’s done! I can keep the floors somewhat vacuumed even if I don’t do it quite as often as I should. In short, the house is not a filthy tip but it’s not as clean and tidy as it should be either. Especially considering the amount of time I spend wasting online.

And none of this is interesting so I don’t post. I don’t get out enough to think of interesting things to post about. I don’t think anyone wants to read more Doctor Who or Captain Jack fangirly rambling. So I don’t post. Boringest blog ever (yes, “boringest” is a word, damn it!). *flicks to the next tab and continues reading fanfic*

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