The glow bug slept from dusk till dawn. Sadly for me that was 9pm till 4am. Blessedly, she managed to resettle herself at 4am and get up at 6am – super!
I don’t blame her at all: the sunset was stunning!
First official night in the country and I have already thrown away the routine. Overnight I have gone from hard-core Gina Ford follower to ‘let’s just make it up as we go along.’ (This will probably backfire!)
It’s well after 7pm; the glow bug has refused to go to sleep. However, it is so sunny and hot, I don’t blame her really. Nothing to do other than let her at quietly and try and enjoy the sunshine while it’s there. I think it’s well past wine-o-clock!
Just like boys little girls can also enjoy a bit of frisky play time. For young children rough and tumble play is universal to their growth and development. Nothing beats hearing a lil one squeal with delight as their parents chase them across the floor.
While crawling around roaring like a lion (as you do when you’re a mum) the glowbug caught me off guard and then threw herself at me. Her head hit my face with such force. I was in shock. I wanted to cry. What had just happened?
My baby had unintentionally given me the bash. Both my top and bottom lips had been split. She was tough and was fine… I was not. Note to self, be aware that sometimes mums can get hurt too.
Tiny Fey! I keep meaning to buy her book.
In response to this comment from ‘jerkstore’ on perezhilton.com: “In my opinion Tina Fey completely ruined SNL. The only reason she’s celebrated is because she’s a woman and an outspoken liberal. She has not a single funny bone in her body” … Tina says:
Huzzah for the Truth Teller! Women in this country have been over-celebrated for too long. Just last night there was a story on my local news about a “missing girl,” and they must have dedicated seven or eight minutes to “where she was last seen” and “how she might have been abducted by a close family friend,” and I thought, “What is this, the News for Chicks?” Then there was some story about Hillary Clinton flying to some country because she’s secretary of state. Why do we keep talking about these dumdums? We are a society that constantly celebrates no one but women and it must stop! I want to hear what the men of the world have been up to. What fun new guns have they invented? What are they raping these days? What’s Michael Bay’s next film going to be?
When I first set out to ruin SNL, I didn’t think anyone would notice, but I persevered because—like you trying to do a nine-piece jigsaw puzzle—it was a labor of love.
I’m not one to toot my own horn, but I feel safe with you, jerkstore, so I’ll say it. Everything you ever hated on SNL was by me, and anything you ever liked was by someone else who did it against my will.
P.S. You know who does have a funny bone in her body? Your mom every night for a dollar.
I just love a well-crafted helping of patriarchy-directed sarcasm!
I’m currently loving exploring the little furry universe of Hairy Maclary, that canine father figure of New Zealand toddlers’ literature. Until this year if you’d asked me to name other titles in the series I wouldn’t have been able to come up with even one – Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy being the most famous, and the one I (and about four million other kiwi kids) could ‘read’ from cover to cover when I was three years old.
It’s also no doubt the one that has been far and away the most lucrative for its author. Lynley Dodd’s other books must have been around even when I was a kid, and I daresay we enjoyed and maybe even owned them, but it was Hairy Maclary’s famous walk that became the canonical text.
Recently, Miss Bee has been given some of the other titles. We have Slinky Malinki, Open the Door as a board book and Hairy Maclary and Zachary Quack as a big-girl (scrunchable, foldable, rippable) book. We love them! The familiar illustrations are precise and filled with movement and personality, and the carefully crafted words just dance on your tongue. Zachary Quack, especially, is gorgeous, and there’s an endearing subtext in the story of the little fellow who just wants to be a part of whatever Hairy himself is up to.
But I have to say, we just love the original Hairy Maclary the best. I think the difference is that the narrative is perfectly constructed; it’s a satisfying story. Slinky Malinki kind of fizzles out; its denouement is merely implied (Slinky’s archnemesis Hairy Maclary is waiting for him behind the final door). Zachary Quack’s ending borders on the saccharine (Zachary having helped Hairy out of a tight spot, duck and dog become life long friends, finally sharing a cuddly naptime). Hairy Maclary’s trip from and to Donaldson’s Dairy is neat, self-contained and perfectly satisfying.
Wow, bit of a po-mo moment there. Did I just deconstruct Hairy Maclary?
A few of my mummies sent me this link to make a free personalized message from the north pole.
Unfortunately the glow bug is too young to understand this year.
If you have older kiddies they might find this supper cool!
I love Christmas: the cheesy carols, decorations, parties, the Christmas mince pies, the houses covered in fairy lights! As much as I loathe the commercialism – I used to adore all shopping. Yes, I am a hypocrite. However, shopping is not the same when you are living off one income. I am finding the whole Christmas saga a bit stressful this year.
If I hadn’t just moved house I would have liked to make my own gifts. Craft is so fashionable and fun. However, I don’t think my extended family would understand or appreciate it if I gifted them handmade clothing, cushions, jam, pot plants or bunting.
Kids these days are getting more and more spoilt. The media pressure on parents to find the perfect gift is more demanding than ever. If you are as confused as me and genuinely want to give something that gives back to the community, here are a few of my faves.
AFTERSOCKS – only $20. Proceeds go towards Christchurch earthquake relief.
Oxfam Unwrapped’s goats just keep on giving: teach your kids it’s cooler to give than receive. Oxfam’s site says that a locally bought goat will give a family 7 litres of fresh milk per week to drink and sell.
If you do want to give something crafty, check out the next craft 2.0. They have some gorgeous and affordable handmade goods for the whole family!
And what do I want for Christmas? … my fiancé to come home and look after the glow bug so I can have a cup of tea and a lie down, thank you!
This post is kind of a paen to Lize, who is all kinds of wonderful. She has effectively given me a pep talk (I could use the term ‘stern talking to’, actually) on handling Miss Bee’s first birthday. Two major, very important points she made were that (1) there should be balloons, especially at the letterbox and (2) there should be champagne. Yes. And YES.
But perhaps the most important point that Lize made was that of course it’s a day for Miss Bee herself. Ok, it won’t mean much on the day, and she won’t remember the occasion in years to come, but there will be photos, and Miss Bee will look at those photos – a few years, and then a few years, and then a few decades down the track.
I have a photo of me sitting on a table next to a modest, but pretty cake … a few people, some of them I recognise and some of them I don’t. My mum smiling a big happy smile … growing up I used to spend hours going through our albums poring over each memory … that I had no recollection of. i don’t think I equated these images with how much I was loved, but it sure did make my heart happy.
Of course that conjured up an instant, crystal-clear image of the equivalent photo in my own family’s ancient album: I am sitting propped up at the table; I have big brown curls exactly like Miss Bee’s are at the moment. I am wearing a little gingham dress that my Granny smocked for me (whatever happened to the art of smocking?? Does anyone’s granny still do this?). I am looking down on this huge, yellow and brown buzzy bee cake. I have this totally unselfconscious look of curiosity, perhaps trepidation, on my face. I am surrounded by my family.
I can recall this image to mind perfectly; I must have looked at it a thousand times. Miss Bee is going to have a photo like this in her album.
Other than gardening in fine fabrics, here are 10 steps to factor some glam into the busy world of mummydom:
1. I love waterproof mascara: it takes just 20 seconds to apply, quickly your crusty sleep-deprived eyes appear larger, more alert and lustier.
2. Always carry around your fave lipstick. Bright reds and warm pinks distract from wrinkles. These can also double up as blusher.
4. Own at least one beautiful silk scarf. Not only are they chic, they are wonderful to play peek-a-boo with a bored baby.
5. High heels and babies just don’t mix; Gucci wedges are for fools! A functional spine is a sexy spine. Invest in some stylish flats. Check these out at MINX.
6. Get a pedicure… yeah right! … when do I have the time to do that?! Ok, so I have not maintained mine and they are a bit skanky and chipped, but there was a point when I said to myself … man I have some damn sexy feet!
7. WATER WATER WATER! It doesn’t matter how many expensive organic-fantastic-placenta-collagen-lumed-false-hope-filled skin creams you buy. Nothing beats drinking 8+ glasses a day – especially if you are breastfeeding. A hydrated mum is a happy mum.
8. Giant sunglasses rule! Great if you are feeling introverted and can’t be assed talking to people. I love $2 shop bargains.
9. Pearl earrings and necklaces are oldschool-cool. It doesn’t matter if you are covered in mud, sand and that random egg sandwich the little one decided to rub all over you … who cares, you ARE wearing pearls!
10. SMILE! There is nothing more stunning that seeing a mum smiling and laughing out loud with her baby.
In six weeks’ time I will be on the right side of the world to watch Zelda and the glow bug practicing the ‘Tucson bruja chicken taming technique‘ in the rural Horowhenua! I am very much looking forward to this.
Ha! Tucson bruja. Featuring some great facial piercing there; deliciously porcine. Maybe that’s part of her chicken-taming magic?? Zelda, you should look into it.
Coincidentally, Miss Bee (a huge fan of ducks, as anyone who talks to her will attest) is also working on poultry-taming at present, with the ducks that live across the road from us on the river. With the help of daddy, that is. He soaks old bread in water and throws chunks of it out into our back yard; every time he does this he whistles. The ducks are starting to associate the whistle with the food, and coming as soon as he whistles! Miss Bee loves it; she jumps up in down in my arms and says ‘háp háp!’ (‘quack quack!’). No bruja techniques, just the old cliche: the way to a fowl’s heart is through his stomach.
I might look into this chicken-hypnotising technique though; could be something in it.