Adding to the interview collection [see Ruari's one - which set us off - here, Zadie's here and Maja's here].
Couldn’t wait to log our interview with our just turned two year old. It’s such a cute idea. And as with all these kind of projects, will be awesome once you’ve built up a few and managed to follow through each year.
And I just saw the ever popular Play at home Moms recently ran a fab give-away [Daisy notes: posted this too late to make this a hot tip; sorry Lize!] … Also in the memory-saving vein. (Note: app not available in all countries yet).
A while ago there was this video going around. The über momento:
So here’s our humble contribution to the archives:
Sitting still is quite hard to do when you’re two. Our interview started on the potty (we have a nappy-free child now).
Note: I asked these questions in Afrikaans. So she answered most of them in Afrikaans. I’ll translate the questions I asked her to English here and her answers I’ll translate in the brackets.
1. Which colours do you like? Parkie (playground)!
I asked again and she said Pers, which is purple in English. She was looking at her purple jersey at the time.
2. What fruit do you like? Blou, oranje nee groen.(blue, orange no green.)
3. What do you like for lunch? druiwe. (grapes.)
4. Which animals do you like best? Druiwe nee apie! (Grapes, no, monkey!)
Monkey was quite unexpected. Cat or giraffe or elephant I would’ve thought.
5. What do you like to snack on? Giraffe. Kaas! (Giraffe. Cheese!)
6. What do you like to read? What’s your favourite book? Gruffalo!
Yea definitely one of her favourites.
7. Who are your friends? Leonie sick. Torin.
(earlier in the day we had fun playing with some of our friends. But leonie couldn’t come because she felt a bit under the weather).
8. Who are some of your friends at school? Sue.
(sue is one of her favourite caregivers).
9. What is your favorite song? Wheels on the bus.
That is definitely true!
10. What is your favourite toy? nose blow.
Her nose was a bit runny and she took a tissue to blow her nose.
11. What would you like to be when you grow up, like where would you like to work? Xero.
(Her Daddy works at Xero.)
A lot of fun. And glad we’ve got these for the record.
Have fun documenting, or not. I don’t think you have to have a scrapbook or tons of videos to enjoy your child’s precious early years. Often living in the moment is more important … Which I have to remind myself of often.
Lize, guilty of taking way to many photos of the child.
As most posts go on this topic, I mostly address the public view on gender stereotypes, the corporate money-hungry toy companies’ shameless cashing in on said stereotypes and/or your family and friends buying your baby-girl pink socks … I’ve been waiting with interest how it will all pan out for us, in real life.
Cut to: Real life drama.
Tannie loop!
MOVING HOUSE! Holy heck what a nightmare. Especially bad for us this time around cause we decided to de-clutter completely. To free our lives of the trinkets and doodads we’ve been carting along with us, all around the world. This meant the usual weeks of pre-prep, driving car loads to the tip, and packing boxes. Then the actual move (all by ourselves with the help of my dad – thanks granny for taking care of the child in that time), the cleaning of the house that no longer looks like our beloved home, merely a shell of its former glory, and then, finally, the unpacking. Cue: small box, marked “random stuff”, opened to reveal two barbies I couldn’t part with. One of which is Ultra hair Barbie. the longest-haired Barbie ever.
(note: see there at the end, poor Ken desperately vying for a place in the market. ha. couldn’t care less. Wasn’t interested in boys then, barely interested in them now).
Now, Lu has been absolutely LOVING the unpacking process. I’ve never seen her occupy herself at home, by herself, for so long. It’s been a thrill to see how much she’s grown and developed. All the new interests. All the new experiments.
Well, Barbie didn’t hold her attention as long as, say, packing out the box of her books, reading and rediscovering them all, but it did give her 5 minutes of “tannie loop”. Directly translated: “lady walk”. That’s it. She saw that the lady had shoes on and two (very long) legs, and like most of her role playing at the moment, it was about imitating the adult world. I think it’s the same reason why she likes to help clean and cook, walk around with a handbag, containing a cellphone and keys, ask to wear a watch (like her daddy), dress the doll cause she’s cold and ride off on her scooter saying “Luca winkel”. (Loosely translated: “I’m off to the shops”.) And off she scoots: “see ya dude”.
WATCH-ing Tallulah eat.
Pre child, looking in on this, I’d be mortified that my daughter is playing with a BARBIE, cleaning house and doing the shopping…. But isn’t that how our babies learn? To imitate. Not to mention that playing with duplo and helping to screw her bed back together after the move and loving diggers and trucks and playing football and climbing (lots and lots of very brave climbing) and swimming and painting and dancing and singing and hanging out with Spidey. It’s all there.
The point being: what’s the fuss.
Daisy, remembering my Barbie-playing-days and really looking intently at the reasons for hanging out with my girlfriends, sometimes playing Barbie, really truly being honest about it … I can say I never once thought of Barbie as a role model. Not in any way. It was a bit like what Lu is doing now. Imitating the adult world. What we’d do if we had our own place. Where we’d work, who we’ll grow up to be. I definitely agree that it would be an ideal world to get those proportions better …. but until the toy companies get on board, I’d like to offer up the wise words of my mother, confirmed by my own experience.
“If you don’t make an issue out of it, there won’t be one”. This is a very bad summary of one of the many life lessons she so quietly, gently, imparted on me. Trying to condense it into a sentence is hard. What I’m trying to say is that my mom never said, “o wow look how beautiful barbie is, she has killer legs”. or. “I wish Mattel would stop putting these notions of what beauty is into our daughters heads”. I didn’t get a chance to think of any of that…. It’s like how I found out much much later in life that there is a chunk of society saying that the Ninja turtles were evil. WHAT! I frikking love them. I was always Michelangelo, for heavens sake. Most of my childhood was me fantasising about being a ninja warrior.
I was trusted to make my own choices, formulate my own thoughts.
Yes, it’s a fine line. You don’t want your daughters unaware of the crazy stupid world we live in where you as a woman couldn’t vote till the other day… but I’m also saying maybe you don’t have to point out to your two year old that “Barbies are from the devil and I don’t want you growing up thinking you should be one”. Huh. “But I was only dressing the Barbie Mommy, I didn’t realise I could be wishing to be as thin as her!”
Lu noticed the pink cupcake tutu dress her fabulous Aunty in America sent her the other day. And since she’s usually allowed to wear what she likes, I didn’t go running out the front door throwing the dress in the nearest bin. Nope, she wore her pink cupcake frilly tutu dress to school. And why not. Of course she’ll like it – as soon as she saw it she said “Ouma cupcake”. Her granny bakes the best cupcakes and she always associates any cake-type treats with her Ouma. She was homage-ing her granny. (What I didn’t love though was the reaction she got. The “o so beautiful” and “how cute” from strangers and passersbys…. Why don’t you comment when she’s in her brown pants and Tee, or why comment on clothes at all? Why not comment on her beautiful smile, her wicked sense of humour or the weather?)
Scooter shopping. Best Christmas present ever!
Cut back to original point: This is a hopeful post. A post for mums and dads with daughters. I actually truly think it’s going to be Ok. Toy companies and society be damned. My child will have me as a role model … I hope this kind of level-headedness lasts beyond her second birthday (next month!).
A new gadget for a new year. I can’t remember where I saw the iPotty first, so i’ll give both Babyology and EssentialBaby credit. (both great spots to hang out if you what to know what’s hot right now).
When asked what people think of this device it seems to divide the camps nicely into the obvious “yay we’ll try it” vs “boo what would the caveman do” gangs.
Personally we’re taking the “baby-led weeing approach” (yes i’m pretty sure I coined that phrase). I wouldn’t go near the thing.
Love Janet Lansbury so much. Can’t resist linking to this wee post on “potty training“. Easy.
Happy toileting everyone! May the poo-force be with you.
lize
The most important, most powerful, most special event in my life, was giving birth to my baby.
(for the non-baby folk reading D&Z: yes, I could rewrite this same sentence and replace “birth to my baby” with “meeting my partner” or “deciding to move to NZ” or “starting my own business” etc. I am of course a human being comprised of important events throughout my life not a product of merely one, but today’s post is focusing on the birthing experience in particular.)
Watch this.
Toni and Alex are my heroes. There are some things in life you wish with all your heart that you could’ve done or be a part of, and this endeavor by One World Birth is exactly one of those times.
The Rent Tent – Image from nuttermother.com
This is a fact. The modern woman, the Lize of 2010 (pre-baby), had no clue to what it meant to have a baby. The art of being woman, of being there for one another during childbirth, of sitting together with your peeps in the red tent hanging out menstruating and being ok with it, is lost. There’s no argument. It is the saddest truth about our society today, that we do not know how to give birth. If we are having to fight for the freedom of midwives, we have no clue.
(I’ll do a quick side note and give New Zealand big props for giving me the opportunity to give birth with a midwife, free from unnecessary medical intervention. NZ you are miles ahead of the rest of the word.*).
One World Birth inspired me. I’m putting it in writing (just finished Michael Hill’s A-MA-ZING bookToughen Up; he talks about setting goals and writing them down).
My goal: I’m going to organise (and be apart of) an exhibition that will ask women to comment on child birth. Whether that be from own experience or perception. Whether it be positive or negative.
The aim: to bring society face to face with the act of giving birth. To inspire, to critique to question.
This will show beginning of 2013. I’ve got the gallery booked.
And this is my argument for why we should all care and talk about birth. (e.g. why you should be involved in this exhibition).
Artwork from rubylane.com
Giving birth to a human being is a big deal. The physical act of bringing your child into this world takes bravery, strength, support, the utmost trust in yourself and those around you and I believe that If we were present at our sister/auntie/neighbor’s birth, we would know this fact undeniably. All fears woman (and society) might have will melt away when they see and feel the all encompassing love coursing through the air, your very being, when a baby is held for the first time. The connection to the world and your fellow humans are so powerful, it makes you re-evaluate life as you know it. Unfortunately I don’t think this will be a reality any time soon, so in the mean time we can talk about it honestly. The good, the bad and the ugly. Birth is a big deal. It’s the moment your child’s journey in this world starts. The first day of loving your human for the rest of their life. Birth, it is the biggest deal.
If everyone cared about each and every birth, each child born into this world. We will have the paradise many wish for here on earth.
And that is something to strive for, to fight for, to believe in.
Every person in this world is entitled to that kind of love and commitment. Lize.
*Having modern medicine to help save lives during birth is the most wonderful thng, this is not a rant trying to deny that fact.
Growing up all small town-like, enjoying every minute of the sunlight, outdoors, racing around on our bikes, camping in our backyards, swimming, playing … swooning over musicians and actors just wasn’t part of my social education.
That and perhaps my mum only ever listening to the likes of Vivaldi (Bajazet being her fave at the mo) and Beethoven (Fidelio her always favourite). When I spoke to her about it recently, she figured beginning the littlies on Mozart is great.
So melodic. Ah memories …
Fills your heart with joy (or sorrow, depending on your mood of course).
… so when I look at the Blieber fans in this live performance clip:
(at 30 seconds, 50 seconds and 1 minute 10 seconds in) I’m shocked to see the screaming girls so very very young. (Were the Beatle-loving fans that young too??)
Don’t get me wrong; I’ve got a very eclectic music taste and don’t mind the song itself … but … am i allowed to forbid my child from screaming and yelling at a boy to “love me love me”…?
only kidding! I don’t think it will come to forbidding anything to anyone at any time. I was merely pondering.
Rock on party people,
Lize
PS. if you invite me to your wedding Z, i’ll bust out these moves for ya! Gangnam style. whoop.
I am constantly amazed at the huge giant bubble of naivety I live in.
This is one of those articles you read and you think ‘is this an April Fools thing?’ Next day some person’s going to write a follow-up: ‘Bazinga. You’ve been punk’d, Fool’.
There’s not much I think I want to say about this ‘latest mummies’ war’. How about I just quote a few lines to get your ratings up, D&Z?
Mother’s little helper? Moms who use marijuana to take the edge off say they’re tired of being looked down upon.
or
Marijuana parents aren’t perfect, but they’re far less imperfect than parents who use alcohol irresponsibly
or how about:
Whether a mom chooses wine or pot to take the edge off her day, how she uses the drug is important to consider.
I honestly can say, I’m stumped. There’s too much here, it’s just too easy.
I suppose that’s not a very satisfactory way of introducing you to this topic … But I guess even if this post isn’t saying much, at least you now know that there’s a new-mummy-war going on and if you’re tired of the Sleep-war or the Breast/Bottle-feeding-war, you could always direct your attention to this new (outrageously ridiculous) war.
A quick note on the happenings in the music world.
Since Glowbug is doing such a great job on keeping us abreast on the latest in toddler-dom. Thought I’d cover the “grown-up” scene … you know. To keep up. We’re cool mums after all.
Well I’ve heard this song a million times … Don’t ask me how. No idea. (Seriously, I listen to all of 20 minutes of radio a week.)
Now you’re going to think “boring, feminist rant on the way”. And yes, I could sit on your (From-my-lips) couch and muse all day long about the role women play in (modern) music.
But (unfortunately?) I’ll have to disappoint you. I can’t get myself to do it.
The lyrics are just too ridiculous. Every time I hear it … I … GIGGLE.
Come on people. Give me a break.
“Blow my whistle baby”.
Whistle = penis. Right?
Or are the kids of the day too sophisticated to actually find this funny/mildly amusing and I’m the pervy old lady thinking gross things?
The music video is quite obvious. I managed to watch one minute of it.
It bored me; luckily I’m sure all the bikini-clad ladies are young professional women, doin’ it for themselves … but I bet you 5 bucks they blow on whistles (hopefully not penises) by the end of it.
Also luckily, Flo is very buff and manly, so I guess he can get away with this (what I think): the stupidest most embarrassing lyrics in
the world.
“Come on, blow my whistle baby, whistle baby”. Bah ha ha. Tears.
From your hip friend,
Lize.
Ps. I’m actually whistling the tune right now… it’s really catchy:(
So you can imagine as a native African – born, bred and raised in sunny South Africa – I grew up on it.
The natural sweetness of rooibos, combined with a soft aroma of herbal-y goodness, makes for a lovely tea (and if you’re super constipated, a mild laxative).
Mum said it is was the perfect alternative to water, when her babies weren’t keen on the ‘pure stuff’.
Needless to say, it’s my favourite tea as an adult. And as a lucky bonus it also has cool health benefits, like containing no caffeine, and super low levels of tannin (apparently rooibos’ antioxidants is also a drawcard for some).
Since this installment of LeWOW (Lize’s Word on the Web) is turning into a bit of a ‘revue’, I might as well tell you my favourite brands of rooibos. As a South African living abroad I was very pleased to find my favourite Freshpak brand in one of the local supermarkets.
Also me mum’s favourite, Five Roses, has got the lovely smooth, soft taste that I love. I guess you can’t go wrong with any old cup o’ red bush in your hand, but if you gonna stand in the tea aisle wondering which one to try, you might as well take the South Africans’ choice in consideration.
And Dais, if there’s anything out there that will cure your addiction to the ‘feine, it’s gonna be a that cup of steamy hot South African goodness.
I could hardly believe my ears. Was listening to late night radio on my drive back from a business meeting. Ryan Seacrest (of Idol fame) was talking about a phenomenon on YouTube: girls posting their videos, asking whether the www (world wide web) thought they were ugly.
Say what now? Come again? yikes!
This seems like a perfect topic for D&Z’s From my lips section (although that sense of helplessness washes over me if I think about what that post would be about and how little it would help those poor girls … who need their own mothers fighting for them).
I didn’t watch many of these; in fact I only watched the one that was on top of the long long list of videos …
Some are from a year ago!
Totally and utterly sad.
Is it just me or are these going around a lot lately (am referring to Facebook of course)?
On the one hand it makes perfect sense, on the other no sense at all.
Often true, sometimes stereotyped to the point of insulting.
Most of them smirk-worthy, poking fun.
Easy wee things to post, for a surefire reaction.
The snob in me isn’t quite sure how she feels about these seemingly harmless bouts of cheap humour.
But the honest me can tell you I laugh at almost every single one of them!
