Hey, Hey it's... what day is it?

It's time to put pen to paper, shoulder to the wheel, nose to the grindstone and get some finger tappin', mind melting, fog inducing, thought reporting blog-style.

Ok, before I forget, I should mention some of the wonderful kid-isms that seem to pop out at regular intervals at my house. Firstly, Little Man is going through an "angry" age. Everything seems to annoy him, though he can be extremely happy at other times. I don't think he is manic depressive or anything scary but at four, I'm told kids go through a difficult age. Actually, saying kids are going through a difficult age is a load of crap. They are difficult period. They start out being difficult and then get steadily more difficult until they have kids of their own. It would be more useful to describe an age or phase using some scale - DW and I currently use the Richter scale, other families might be different.

Anyway, the other day I was cooking dinner and Little Man objected to what I was cooking, or possibly the idea that the Earth is round - who knows. The thing is he declared his hatred for me, as he so often does these days:

Little Man: I HATE you!
Me: But I'm cooking you dinner.
Little Man: Fine! Then I love you and I hate Mum!

I should note that DW had nothing to do with this exchange whatsoever.

On to Princess, who is embracing the skill of reading with great gusto. However, a few nights back she had finished the age-appropriate readers and had come home with a book of her choosing. It was called "Cockatiels" and was in fact an in-depth reference book regarding the breeding and care of various types of cockatiels. Now while Princess can read very well for her age, this book was chock full of bird-breeding-related jargon and nearly every second word was one she had not come across before in her reading travels. In fact, many were new to me as well. So after a few pages of reading what might as well have been in another language, I suggested that the book was a little over her head.

The next day, when it was time to do her reader I asked her if she had remembered to get a simpler book, unlike her book about cockatiels. She assured she had by saying her new book was not at all the same - it was about bees.

She couldn't understand what I thought was so funny.


Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Even if they do smell funny, it's not something people expect to hear. Don't expect a "thank you". Honesty is its own reward.

Good morning.

I know that sounds rather more formal than is typical but I don't want to alarm you.

I believe Little Man has been abducted and replaced by a short, angry psychopath called Lightning McQueen...asaurus.

Seriously, either that or the kid has gone nuts. In all fairness, the creators of the replicant have done a great job. It looks just like Little Man and sounds just like Little Man. But a couple of things are amiss. For example, he now talks more than Princess and hasn't taken a breath for twenty three days straight. The best Princess was ever able to manage was eighteen hours and she was in peak form.

The Little Man we knew would give hugs and kisses and say "I love you Daddy" all the time, but the new one kicks, punches, bites and screams blue murder when the ads come on TV. He's even worse when something REALLY annoys him. He's a menace!

I am calmly told by those who are more calm than I, that I should calm myself and try to maintain a calming atmosphere for Little Man so that he too might calm down. My response is below:

For your information
Until now I have been
Calm and I do
Know exactly how to cope with this

Ordeal.
From now on, please keep your
Foughts to yourself.

Or words to that effect. A measured response if ever there was one, I think you'll agree. I should mention that very occasionally the real Little Man pops back and gives hugs and cuddles and says "I Love You" and makes DW and I feel less like the parents of an angry velociraptor. We treasure those brief moments and use them to steel ourselves for the maelstrom that is Little Man Unleashed.

In case anyone is wondering about the Lightning McQueen reference earlier, Little Man has been obsessed with the hero of the Cars movie for ages. He is also obsessed with dinosaurs, hence the "...asaurus" addition. He alternates between flying his cars around the room, blasting everything in sight, ala Angry Blue Lightning McQueen (cf. Cars dream sequence) or roaring and leaping about like a dinosaur. He chops and changes which dinosaur he is at any given moment, depending on which one he thinks would inflict the most damage in a particular scenario. He really commits to the role as well.

It is not just during play that he is completely crazy. He deliberately rejects any suggestion of Princess' when it comes to deciding what to watch on TV. The only food he admits to liking is noodles and screams his replicant head off (ok, it doesn't come off but it does seem to turn further than it should be able to) whenever something else is served. He still eats whatever is put in front of him eventually, and will occasionally admit to liking it, but its still not noodles, dammit!

It is DW's considered opinion that the behaviour is not that of a changeling, but rather a result of Little Man giving up his day sleep before he is really ready to. I have applied the principle of Occam's Razor to her argument and decided that it is more likely he is a short, angry psychopath replicant, rather than just being overtired. I mean, how else can you explain the inhuman strength and super spit?

I don't remember Princess going through a similar phase. DW offers two explanations for this supposed lapse. Firstly, Princess did go through the same phase and I am simply repressing the memory. Secondly, and seemingly at odds with the first, Princess is a girl and girls are different to boys and go through different phases. It was unwise to suggest she should just pick one and stick to it.

To her credit, DW is the one who bears the brunt of dealing with the replicant-freaky-monster destructo-boy. The fact that he still lives is a testament to her self-control. Thank God he hasn't touched her knitting.

Now if I reach my mind out to the most extraordinary possibilities I must concede that it is possible that the horrible little punk monster is actually our beloved son, Little Man. I admit it may be, however unlikely, that he is going through a phase and it is exacerbated by him being overtired. Maybe. But I doubt it.

I'll keep you posted.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Never rush doing up your fly.

"Let them eat cake", she said.

Princess has been making this world her own for seven years, as of yesterday, at about 1:01pm. And she made nearly as much fuss as she did on arrival.

Well, we had already had the birthday party but Princess was just about beside herself pending the actual anniversary of her birth. She was humming with anticipation the night before. I don't mean humming like most people hum. I mean her whole body was shaking almost imperceptibly and she appeared in a constant state of motion blur.

While DW worked on what must be said to be one of her best birthday card creations, I set about wrapping the presents. I am pretty proud of the presents I chose, bar one. DW suggested a series of kids books about the adventures of Tinkerbell, which Princess loves, but I chose the rest of the presents on my own. I think I did pretty well considering my lack of shared interests with a seven year old girl. I bought her a microscope. Ok, we have some shared interests. She calls it her science thingy with the bits and other stuff. Ok, so I got her something for me to play with, but you know, quality time and all that.

I also got her a board game called Cluedo Jnr, where rather than solving a gruesome murder, the kids are called upon to solve a far more insidious crime - who ate the last piece of chocolate cake. Are we preparing our kids for the real world or what? I also bought her Monopoly Jnr (a great deal on the double pack) but DW decided that along with all the presents she had already received and are still coming, we would hold off on that one. I'm not sure how that is preparing Princess for the Global Financial Crisis but there it is.

Now, those all sound like responsibly, well thought out gifts, yes? I agree. It was the last gift, or rather the one we let Little Man give to Princess, that is the questionable choice. For the last year or so, Princess has been asking for a "yada yada yada." It turns out this is actually the name of a toy, and not me just hearing her say what I always hear when she asks for something. It is a little voice recorder that can record all of six seconds of whatever and then play it back. It can only record one clip but the real magic, at least for Princess, is that it can play it "high and fast or slow and slow". She evens says the slogan in those voices.

I love Princess dearly but her voice can be a little piercing and she talks A LOT so that can get a little annoying after a few seconds. Imagine what its like after seven years. And now, she can record herself and play it back "high and fast". As her voice is already high and fast, it is difficult to explain what we are now being subjected to, but suffice it to say, DW would probably have preferred I'd bought her a sports whistle.

Because it was Princess' 7th birthday, I took some flex time to stay home yesterday. As luck would have it, it was also the day DW was scheduled to do classroom help in Princess' class, so what better opportunity for Dad to "see first-hand" just what goes on in the grade one classroom. What joy! What rapture? What a funky smell a room full of grade ones make.

Princess was terribly excited that I would be with her for the first couple of hours of the day, and pretty much wanted to cuddle me and sit on my feet the whole time. However it was good to see how well she does in class and how she really listens and works hard for the teachers. Now I just need to learn their secrets and get her to do it at home. "Not likely", she tells me. So I wandered around, helping the odd kid with their writing, chatting with the normal kids and practicing my pasting. I've still got it, by the way. It was an experience, and by and large a rewarding one. I'm very proud of Princess and I've discovered I can hold my breath for nearly two minutes when it's really necessary.

Then it was cake making time. DW had a couple of cake mixes that she said I could have a go at making. And yes, she said it a little condescendingly if you ask me. Anyway, I set about trying to make the birthday cake. I would have followed the instructions to the letter if DW hadn't informed me that she does it differently to the instructions and proceeded to modify the recipe. I, being a dutiful and sensible husband, followed her instructions up until the point of the discussion over which cake tin to use. Our opinions diverged slightly and in a rare display of backbone, I chose a different cake tin to DW's "highly recommended" one. In my defense, mine was what the original recipe called for. I guess having survived the morning with Princess' class and so little oxygen, I was feeling brave and slightly light-headed.

All appeared to go well until the cake came out. From above, it looked perfect, just like the packet. Unfortunately, it nearly disappeared when observed from the side. It had certainly risen in the oven, but some mysterious thing happened when it cooled - it compressed itself into a thin, firm disc. I was able to add some height with, I guess it could be said, too much icing, and I made it rather pretty with, again it could be said, too many smarties. The result was a very pretty cake, especially with candles and such, but not the best eating. Unless you thought of it as more of a tort, which was closer to the mark, but still, pretty hard going.

The kids had a fair go at the smarties and ate their way down through nearly a cakes-depth of icing, but couldn't proceed past what we were now calling the base. I think DW must have felt sorry for me and ate her whole piece. She started laughing toward the end, but it took nearly twenty minutes more before she could explain why she was laughing. Apparently she had been trying to speak after putting in the last mouthful and it had taken her that long to clear her mouth to speak. It did have a slightly clagging effect, I'll admit.

We discussed its various merits later. The possibility of using it for roof insulation looked good until you consider the cost of reinforcing the ceiling to support the weight. It could also be used as a bullet-proof vest, with or without the smarties, and with the added bonus of being able to stick the wearer to a wall, or a reinforced ceiling. It could also be used as a Frisbee of mass destruction or for weight training. We also considered that we could market it as the closest thing to Elvish Lembas bread. I ate four pieces.

Anyway, the most important thing is that Princess had a great day, and is now counting the days until the next present epoch, Christmas. And we all survived the experience. Little Man made his presence felt yesterday but that will have to wait for now. Stay tuned.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Highly concentrated chocolate goodness. Doesn't sound so bad now, does it?

Hello World!

Time for another blog.

In two days it will be Princess' 7th birthday! I find it hard to believe that this girl has been with us for such a long time. I also find it hard to believe how quickly seven years can go by. You would think that I could average the two out and have it feel like seven years but No! No matter how I think about it, seven years just seems wrong. But seven years it is.

Because its is Mother's Day on Sunday coming, we decided to have the birthday party last weekend. DW did her usual stellar best and organized an excellent party. If I ever have another 7th Birthday party, I want her to organize it. However, this year, Princess decided to help. She found herself a clipboard and discovered the joys of making lists. She made lists of her lists and stuck them about the place with various ticks besides those she deemed accomplished to her satisfaction.

I also make lots of lists, but I lose them. I found a list I made in 1992 and I hadn't done anything on the list yet, but I figured if I've gotten by this long without doing those tasks, I probably don't need to worry about them. I can't find the other lists.

During her list making, Princess would come up to DW and I and ask politely in her most demanding voice, what we were going to do about such and such. We would give some answer and she would stare at her list and apparently tick things at random. I'm sure it all made sense to her. DW was concerned that bad weather might interfere with our plans but Princess declared the she and I had come up with an "Inside during Wet Weather Plan". DW was impressed and asked what the plan entailed.
Princess replied that we would be inside if there was wet weather. Good plan. Aptly titled as well.

As it happened, we had an almost perfect day for the picnic. In fact, it was a little too hot if anything, but that only ruined the jelly cups. Everything else went according to plan. Kids running madly. Eating like locusts. The occasional tears which disappeared as quickly as they started. More eating. Cakes and candles and "Happy Birthday to you"s. More tears. Did I mention the red cordial? (Actually we didn't have red cordial - Princess likes to get her face really close to other people and tell them that red cordial makes her go nuts - and at that distance they truly believe her).

Perhaps the most amusing thing for me was that as the only male adult in attendance, I ended up as the unofficial MC. I didn't mind. At one point all the kids were running in all directions and I was reminded of gas particles in a contained space. So I yelled at them all to "run much faster!" and bless them, they actually did. Pretty much until they fell over. The other parents might have thought I was being a little mean, abusing my power like that, but I'll bet when their kids fell into bed and went straight into a deep sleep that night, they filed that little trick away in the back of their minds.

Anyway, on Thursday there will be no party as such, but a family celebration. No doubt another blog will ensue.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Initial experiments indicate that frisbees are attracted to birthday cake.

G'Day!

I've never started a blog with G'Day and I promise I will never do it again.

I have recently been tempted into the world of Twitter. Obviously many people already use Twitter and I signed up a while back wondering what the big deal was. My first instinct was that there was, in fact, no big deal. Basically, for those not in the know, when using Twitter, you "tweet" whatever you're doing at any given moment, whenever you feel you have something of interest to tweet. Actually, even if it is not of interest, you can tweet. In fact, especially then, if judging by the current world of Twitter is anything to go by.

This is slightly different to FaceBook, which asks the question "What's on your mind?" Now that is a dangerous question to ask me, seriously. So mostly I just post little inanities and the occasional plug for my doritos ad at http://www.doritos.com.au (Spies Like Us) but nothing too challenging for my small array of friends.

Fortunately there is a FaceBook app called Twitter which allows me to post simultaneously to both with the same entry. But it is often not the case that what I am thinking is the same as what I am doing.

I am left with the distinctly uneasy feeling that I don't actually understand social networking online. What makes me uneasy is the fact that my track record in social networking in the real world seems to be following me into cyberspace. But cyberspace is supposed to be my domain. It's where nerds are cool and geeks are hip. Or is that have hips? Not sure but it is supposed to be the one place you can meet other nerds and geeks while wearing a cape and carrying a broad sword or magical staff and actually command some respect in a pub.

For what its worth, don't try the broad sword thing in a real pub. People don't seem to feel threatened. But I think they respected the cape, at least a little.

So, back to my social ineptitude. I have cleverly masked my dysfunction in the real world (my cape has a hood) but the real people have stopped going to pubs and now drink at home while Twittering and telling their friends on FaceBook what's on their mind. Now you may laugh or shake your head at me for my comments about swords and capes, but who throws sheep, honestly? And what are you to do with said sheep?

I had someone hug me the other day. Not for real, not a hug like DW or the kids can give. Just a message that someone had sent me a hug. Wow! That is so nice! Someone cared enough to send me a hug, along with the other 2342 people in their friends list. I felt so special but couldn't help thinking, if you're going to send me useless intangible crap, why not send me a million imaginary dollars. Or a bazillion dollars. Why not send me a bucket full of dirt? Why dirt you ask? Why the hell not? I could lie in it while I wait to become a vampire. You see, apparently someone else, who didn't think I deserved a hug, set a vampire on me instead. Honestly though, I couldn't tell the difference. In fact, the next person who sends a hug to me may well find themselves beaten on the head with a sheep and have a spike rammed through their heart. And a million imaginary dollars because I care.

There are probably a whole bunch of people who read the above (I wish) and think that maybe I have missed the point of online social networking, and perhaps the hug was just a nice thought, and the sheep is only harmless fun. I think you are probably right. If you remember, that was my initial point. I don't understand online social networking. I don't have time to find out just how many mothers from eighties sitcoms I can name, or to prove I have a decent IQ to whoever it was claimed I'm the dumbest person they know. There are damsels what need savin', don't you know. And that IS a sword in my pocket.

However, I do try. I blog, for instance. Actually, I mostly do that for the catharsis but sometimes I actually try to make someone else feel better about themselves or voice my consternation about an injustice. But blogging is different. It is a much broader expression of self, but maybe not everyone needs such an expression. And so I also use FaceBook, though not to hurl sheep or discover which planetary region I come from. I have found some small measure of satisfaction in knowing that several friends who have seemingly drifted away a little are back in touch, even if its only to say they like my status.

Its funny, but I find I have no interest in what someone's Bejewelled score is, or how many citizens they have in their very own little metropolises(?), and yet I am very interested in what they are thinking. I read recently that a friend was sad. Another person unknown to me but close to my friend asked what was wrong and my friend confided her pain, not just to the one asking, and not to the whole world, but to those who are interested in what she is thinking, her friends. Obviously some things need to be kept private but it made me more aware of my friend who is living a long way away.

And in that lies the heart of the matter. Online social networks, while no substitute for real interpersonal communication, allow us to fill some of the empty moments in our day with thoughts of our friends. You don't need to spend more time in front of a screen, because many of those active online are spending less time in front of the TV, watching imaginary peoples' lives unfold. Those little messages, and hugs I suppose, are a tiny glimpse at people we would otherwise see only rarely. I know there are nay-sayers who condemn these communications as taking people out of the real world, disconnecting humanity from personal interaction. While they have a point, it is proffered without consideration of the benefits. Their are also proponents who are quick to bring those arguments of how socially inept people can find some measure of meaningful communication with others they might not enjoy in the "real" world. But in my opinion, those that potentially suffer most and also those that stand to benefit most greatly are those of us in the middle.

Technology is change and all change brings with it both promise and warning. It is up to us to work out how to progress rather than regress. It is certainly up to us to educate our children in practices that will see them reap the rewards of these developments and at the same time be mindful of the dangers that lurk. It is a brave new world and I suppose I can get used to it.

Now, I must go. Someone sent me a dragon egg and I'm told it needs tending if it is to hatch into a ferocious weapon that I can wield in my quest to save damsels and get respect in pubs. Gotta love the respect.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: I can't express my thoughts in Twitter's 140 character limit.

Its cold again. I'm cold. I'd like to feel warm. But I don't. Still, I now have a cup of tea and that is helping.

I think its time I bought a new winter coat. I haven't bought one for a long time and my old one is disintegrating. A new coat would be nice. It would make me warm. I wish I was warm right now.

Ok. Enough whining. On to today's blog.

Football. Some people drag themselves through the summer just to get to the start of football season. Others notice the insidious encroachment of football into their usual TV schedules. And some don't give a hoot either way.

Me, I quite like football, but I quickly get enough of it. I was lucky enough to be offered free tickets to a Geelong game on Sunday but I declined. "Why?", you may ask. Well I'll tell you. Basically over my lifetime I have been to maybe half a dozen AFL football games and I have failed to enjoy any of them. I don't like the noise. I don't like not being able to see properly (certainly not now that I have my 106cm fullHD LCD at home). I don't like the neanderthal-like regression displayed by some of the supporters. I assume its a temporary regression but its entirely possible those particular people were like that before they come, and continue to be like that when they leave.

And I don't like to watch Geelong lose. Every time I have gone to the footy, Geelong have lost. If I even watch Geelong on TV, even my beautiful new 106cm fullHD LCD TV, they usually lose. In fact, the only way for me to see Geelong win is if they manage an unassailable lead in the first half and then I can tune in. Even so, Geelong still hold the record for having established the greatest three-quarter time lead and still manage to lose. I saw that game.

As I was coming to work this morning I entertained myself, as I do, by thinking up strange changes to the world around me. This morning it was football. I wondered if Aussie Rules Football might not be more interesting if it was called in the spirit of Dungeons and Dragons.

I imagined Gary Ablett Jr attacking the enemy combatants with his +6 boot. Someone casts the dreaded "Chewey-on-your-boot" charm, but the young magician is not deflected. The Brisbane Lions defenders collapsing before his skill. The Geelong forward line unite in a frontal assault, hacking and slashing their way through. Dragons and Trolls doing bloody battle. The final score reveals The Mighty Cats take the day with 18 major strikes and 18 minor hits and take a paltry 5 strikes and 3 minor, barely denting their armor, leaving the Barely LionCubs with a deficit of 93 hit points. While The Cats celebrate their XP boosting win, the Brisbane Lions barely have the strength to kick their wounds.

I'd watch that.

But not soccer:
England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss.
The End

Grid Iron might be ok though, for a laugh:
The Chicago Bears are facing the Dallas Cowboys. Both teams are in full armor. They stare at each other while one of them tries to count. When they realise that isn't working, they all drop their weapons and punch each other in the face. In fact, rumor has it they are lined up facing each other to make sure they punch the right team in the face.

Maybe not, but I like to daydream.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Mr Whippy! Mr Whippy! Where for art thou, Mr Whippy?

I'm just interested to see how easy it is to blog from my iPhone.

[Ed.: It's not too bad but I'd like to be able to post and edit the posts within the one app.]

Good morning, World!

It's Monday and it's cold. We are getting to the last part of Autumn and winter is apparently anxious to be about.

We had a reasonable amount of rain last week and somebody stole my umbrella. It greatly annoyed me. I know I shouldn't but I often have a quiet snicker to myself at people who don't think ahead and carry an umbrella. I'm mean it's Melbourne people! Anyway, I was unfortunately one of those people running through the rain, wishing some prat had not stolen my umbrella. Perhaps I shouldn't laugh at other people's misfortune because perhaps some of them were in the same predicament as I. Who am I kidding? As long as they look funny, I'm gonna laugh.

So it was a cold, wet weekend at our house which meant the kids probably watched more than the recommended two hours of television. They got a little stir crazy. The place looked like a bomb hit it. Actually, two bombs. Princess and Little Man are surprisingly effective when it comes to uniform distribution of all they own. Apparently they like to be able to see all their toys and clothes at once. DW has to go around every day and tidy it all up only to have them do it again to next day.

I don't suppose our kids are unique in this penchant for disorder, so I guess most mums or stay-at-home dads have a similar problem. However, Princess and Little Man are certainly proficient to a high degree. I know DW finds it very hard to have to do the same thing every day, clean up after the kids, wash the clothes, wash the dishes, make the meals, rinse and repeat. Finding time to do the things she needs to do for her own sanity often get bumped to the background and she has been doing it for over seven years.

This year promised some respite as Princess is in Grade One and Little Man is now at three-year-old kinder. That means DW has a whole 5 hours (nearly) to herself. So what does she do with that precious time? She reorganizes her week to do those chores that are easier without the kids in tow, like shopping or paying bills. She doesn't actually get that time to herself. The impact is not insignificant because overall, her week is slightly improved because she doesn't have the shopping battle with Little Man trying his level best to help. Princess is not stopping her to read every single word she sees on the street. But it isn't down time.

I read a while back a comparison of activities which cited looking after a three-year-old as being equivalent in energy demand to eleven hours of sex. I'm sure there are many mothers (or fathers) who firstly have never experienced eleven hours of sex, but probably feel the comparison is fair. They might also have a slightly improved respect for hookers. Or not. But the point is, its hard. Energy draining, body mass reducing hard. At least according to the study.

But I don't think it's quite accurate. It probably feels that way, and therein lies the problem. Looking after small children is hard, but mostly that challenge comes from having to let a significant part of yourself slide to the background while you pick up toys, wash clothes, make meals, rinse and repeat. It is a physical job, but it is the mental challenge and self-sacrifice that really makes it hard.

So to DW and other mothers/fathers out there who struggle with the daily grind, I say thank you. I hope every one of you has someone who will say that to you in person and show you their undying appreciation. Your kids will probably not understand yet just what you are giving them but one day they will. And when that happens, they will realize that they can never repay the debt, except by being such a parent to their own children.

So as you start your next day of mindless tedium and unending chores, just remember that you are appreciated, perhaps not fully and perhaps not by everyone, but at least by those future adults who were once so completely dependent on you. And me. I think you are all doing a great job. Thanks.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Eleven hours! OMG!

Doritos!

Yep. You heard me. Doritos.

For those who watch TV or those who eat chips, and those few who do both, you may be aware of the Doritos ad competition. Basically the idea to to make a 29 second ad featuring Doritos. Sounds easy? Well, yes and no. If you visit the website you will see that some people found the competition very easy. In fact, some of the ads took no apparent effort at all. However, a couple of ads did show some extra spark, and they would have been far more challenging.

I have created an ad along with my regular co-producer Narelle and crew. I think its pretty cool. If I ever manage to get it submitted (currently some server issues), hopefully you will able able to see it too, and vote for it (you can win chips!). But I have been thinking about the other ads submitted.

There is a very cool little cartoon about a corn chip trying to win a singing contest in the vain of Australian Idol or one of those shows. Its very dynamic, funny and well produced with very high production values. It is engaging and a worthy contender for the top prize. Obviously I hate it because it might beat my ad, but I applaud the effort.

There is one ad I hate even more. Its the ad with the girl in the corn chip bikini that apparently falls off after she dives into the pool. It might be the best ad ever. Hell, even I nearly voted for it. I still might. Apparently I am squarely in the target demographic because it is a such a simple concept. Sex sells. Based on the number of votes, lots of people are buying.

Don't get me wrong. I wish I had thought of it and had the budget to put something like that together. It is very slick. It has very high production values. And it can be extremely easily adapted to sell anything from corn chips to BBQ tongs, swimming pools, any form of soft drink, and pretty much anything that could potentially be used to barely hide breasts. And there's the rub (no pun intended - well not really). Basically it has done exactly what any good ad does. It taps into the audience psyche and wraps them up in endorphins. Then it can sell them pretty much anything it wants. The perfect ad. I hate it. One day I hope to create an ad just like it. Shallow, I know.

Actually, we had a lot of fun making the ad so that in itself is some reward. Even with these few good ads in the competition, I'm still hoping we can make a good showing of ourselves.

As an amusing aside, due to scheduling conflicts and so on, I ended up playing the scientist. I don't usually like being in front of the camera. In fact, I still don't but I decided it would be best in this instance. What was funny was DW's reaction to the beard I grew. Its not like I haven't grown a beard before but usually I don't trim it. Its either there, wild and unkempt, or its not. What I wanted for this scientist was something more deliberate and repressed, so I very neatly trimmed my beard. One might think that would look better. It certainly sounds better. DW was horrified. She hated it. She thought I looked sleazy and wouldn't even give me a kiss until I shaved it off. Which she made me do a few minutes after we finished shooting.

Oh well. The things we do for art. And for love. Often not the same things.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Super powers don't make the superhero. Its the underpants.

What Ho?!?

Is this a blog I see before me?

I'd better step around that. I don't know where its been. Or where its going.

Well, it's official. I haven't blogged for a while. I bet everyone thought I had spent all my words on rubbish like lollies or footy cards, but No! I have been saving them.

In fact, I've been saving them so well, that I decided I should probably use a few before they simply EXPLODEOUTOFTHEKEYBOARDUNDERTHEINCREDIBLE
PRESSUREOFNOTHAVINGBEENLETOUTFORSOLONG.

There they go.

Ok. Now that's out of my SYSTEMOHDEARNOITISNTBUTHOPEFULLY
THISWILLBETHELASTOFIT.

Let me just wait a minute.

Ok, all done.

Now, where was I?

Blogging. Ok, I've decided to start blogging again because of the aforementioned and because I simply haven't been writing for my own enjoyment enough lately. Writing is fun, even the way I do it. Also, I was thinking that I don't typically record all the events that happen in my life in any other form. Not that this format is entirely accurate, or even remotely accurate, but it serves as a reminder of my state of mind.

Now you are probably thinking why would I want a reminder of that but eventually it may be useful in establishing my deteriorating mental state should I ever need to plead temporary insanity down the track. Also, its fun.

What has happened in my life since the last time I wrote. Well lots of things but the most bestest of all is that Blogger now allows for Followers! Yay! I have followers! Well, follower but I hope to add more. Now before you dump me as a leader, please understand I take this responsibility very lightly and will try not to lead you or any of my flock astray. Unless its fun. So I urge everyone to become a follower and be prepared to be led astray.

I'm a little embarrassed. Apparently the term "follower" on blogger doesn't mean quite what I thought it meant. But that's up to you good people now, isn't it. I say good people, but I don't mean to discriminate, so please don't be offended if you don't fall into the "good people" category. Especially don't be offended if you fall into the "vengeful psychopath" category.

So what does the new blogging me have in store? Well, apart from more of the above tripe, I will be giving updates on Princess and Little Man, as well as DW, friends, family and pretty much anybody who wrongs me.

Stay tuned for tomorrow blog: Doritos!

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Sometimes I can seem arrogant, which is fair.

It's meeee!!

Ok, where was I?

That's right. The Olympics had finished and Little Man had just had his third birthday. Yep, the little guy made it! It was touch and go there for a minute. It still amazes me that he has been around for three years. Of course, sometimes it seems much longer than that and other times it seems to have flown by. But it never feels like, "Yeah, three years sounds about right."

So what is little man up to you may ask? Well, for starters, his imagination has really kicked in. He loves playing games and anthropomorphizing his toys. For example, I watched him the other day pick up a toy and introduce it to another.

"Hello. I'm dinosaur. I'm ephalent."
"Hello. I'm lion. I'm dinosaur. I'm ephalent."
"Hello. I'm tiger. I'm lion. I'm dinosaur. I'm ephalent."
...

This went on until he had lined up around twenty little plastic animals. Every animal was introduced to every other one. Then the T-Rex beat all the other animals up, sending them scattering around the room. But apparently the T-Rex really has it in for the tiger, because he got a right seeing to.

I tried to film the happenings without him knowing but he got wise to me. He used to ignore the camera but now, he is just like his sister, he has to perform. Only problem is, its his natural performance that is the most interesting.

DW told me she was watching Little Man a few days ago and he was looking at the back of a Little Golden Book, and naming the animals, but he ran into trouble with the pelican.

LM: "Pecilan"
DW: "Pelican"
LM: "Pecilan"
DW: "Pel..i..can"
LM: "Pec..i..lan"
DW: "Say Pel..."
LM: "Pel"
DW: "..i.."
LM: "..i.."
DW: "can"
LM: "can"
DW: "Pel..i..can"
LM: "Pec..i..lan"
DW: "Nearly. Pel..i..can"
LM: "Pel..ic..clan. Pec.. Pelc.. Pec... Nah! It's a duck."

He just skipped it the next time round.

Princess is enjoying some "home-time" after a busy third term at school. The first week of the break were fun-filled adventures of swimming and parties and outings galore. She is finding the second week a little dull. I think this is how school holidays are designed. The first week is great but by the end of the second week, they are pretty ready to be back at school.

It's interesting to consider what Princess was like when I started doing this blog and what she is like now. She is growing up so fast. Her reading is coming along very well, she is much taller and her sensibilities are maturing. She still loves to talk and talk and talk and is always ready to show every single emotion on her face. But she is fast becoming a young girl, as opposed to a little girl.

After our local football team managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory on the weekend, Princess couldn't understand why we weren't still celebrating the fact that they had tried their best. I tried to explain that our team were a bunch of witless losers for being the losingest, losery losers of loserville, but DW stopped me. Apparently we are proud of the fact that Princess still thinks effort is worth celebrating for its own sake. DW thinks we should foster this naive notion in the kids. DW also thinks Princess may have recently surpassed me in the maturity rankings in our house, but I said I don't care, 'cos I'm still the tallest.


Ciao!

Thought for the Day:
(sung to the Geelong Football Club theme)

We are Geelong, we bowed before the Hawks.
We are Geelong, they made us look like dorks.
We played, as though we had been spayed.
We could..n't make the grade!
We canna' fly high, we lost the game
Down at "new sponsor's name"


P.S. Just venting. I still barrack for the Cats.

The Olympics are over! Ta-ta! Bye Bye! See you later!

Yep, no more Olympics for four years, unless you count the Winter Olympics, then its two years. I have a slightly odd view of the Games. I quite like that Australia does well, though I contribute to that success in no way at all. I find it annoying that it takes over the TV for two weeks, unless the football is on, which I find slightly more annoying. Unless its Geelong playing, who I barrack for and contribute nothing towards their success either. Its not like the other stations don't have stuff on, its just that I'm not allowed to watch them. Not during the Olympics. I have discovered that my ranking in the "television watching decision making" is a lowly fourth. The top spot is pretty much held by DW, followed by Little Man, Princess and then me. I need to get another dog, just so I'm not last.

Then the Olympics finishes and it all changes. Well, at least it might. DW says we'll see.

Princess has loved watching the Games. She has really gotten into the spirit and if nothing else, she has learned that the medals are awarded AFTER the race has been run, not before. Those exciting numbers at the start of the race are just the lane numbers for the competitors. Princess is trying to decide which sport she would like to compete in and is currently hoping that the dodecathlon (12 events) becomes part of the Games in when she is old enough.

Little Man on the other hand likes cars. Not just the movie - which he watches obsessively - but anything with wheels. This includes trucks, buses, aeroplanes and wheelbarrows. His idea of the perfect movie would be dinosaurs battling monster trucks. He also loves dinosaurs, but mostly its cars at the moment. I don't think I'll let him watch Speedracer just yet.

Speaking of Little Man, you might be amazed to hear he has finally turned three. Yep, the little guy made it, and believe me, no one was more surprised than DW and I. To celebrate, he got an attitude. Strictly speaking, he had the attitude for several weeks before he turned three, but he has really refined it. He also received lots of presents and had a party at which he showed everyone his attitude.

DW did most of the work preparing the party but I got to make the cake. Ok, so it was a packet mix, but I must say, the mix we use is easy and turns out great almost always. In this particular case, it turned out nicely. The design was based on an idea given to DW by one of her Mum's Group friends, let's call her Shlinda (she should make a list - Shlinda's List). Because of Little Man's love of all things automotive, I designed an outdoor road scene, and the cake was my canvas. I needed a large canvas so I made a great big cake. DW suggested I make butter icing and in retrospect, plain coloured icing would probably have been easier to work with and neater. Anyway, I split up the icing and got hold of all the food colouring I could find. I made a grass coloured icing and a water coloured icing and even a bitumen coloured icing. The last took careful measuring of several, nay, all the food colours I had. As for the precision measurements, I was just lucky that the precise amount needed was also the precise amount that I had of each colour. What are the odds? As it happened, the colour turned out a perfect shade of "road", and also had a slightly authentic taste as well. On this I put tic-tacs for road lines and a couple of small cars DW bought. In the centre, was a Lightning McQueen candle. Ok, it didn't turn out perfectly, but everyone said it looked like I tried REALLY hard. Damn butter icing.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: I am, you am, we am...Australi...am

Brace yourself!

Are you braced? Well do it then! I have discovered that I may in fact be some sort of superhero! The catch is... I don't know what my superpower is! Ok, we can all agree it's not my word-creation ability (cf. "kobberish" still has not entered common usage). Also I am not super strong and I can't fly. I can set things on fire using only my mind and a box of matches but technically willing things to be on fire by setting them on fire is pyromania, and not really super.

Now you might be wondering what makes me think I'm a superhero and not a pyromaniac. Well, for starters, if there's a pyromaniac in my family, its DW, but that's another story. No, I arrived at my conclusion using LOGIC! And no, logic is not my superpower as you will see.

Ok, we all know that superheros have super powers but they also have significant flaws. Either a terrible vulnerability (such as SuperMan and kryptonite) or a moral weakness (such as Batman and hookers). Now, although I haven't discovered my super power, I have discovered...an evil little piggy toenail on my right foot!

Now you might think I'm an idiot and you might be right but hear me out. This little bugger is evil, I tell you. It haunts me during the day, it wakes me up at night, it torments me in my dreams. It sits in the back of my mind whispering things like "whir, buzz, zzwweeee, whhooo". I mean, how frikken unclear is that? At least if it were telling me to "kill, kill!" I could make an objective assessment of the merits of the suggestion depending on where I was. It makes me have crazy dreams! I'd tell you about them but you'd think I was crazy.

I've toyed with the idea of pulling it out but it would just grow back, 'cos that's what evil toenails do! I wondered if I should just chop off the whole toe but that would hurt and I'd be worried about falling over every second step. Also, the power might simply be transferred to another nail. I should mention that I do not actually believe that the toe itself bears me any ill will or is in fact evil itself, just its diabolical spawn.

I don't really know how it happened. Maybe I said something wrong or ate the last cupcake or kicked a wilderbeast in the nuts. It could have been caused by anything. There's no real way of know for sure now. Its just a burden that I have to live with. But it doesn't have to be long. The toenail I mean. I've cut the little bugger down to size, which has only really succeeded in raising the pitch of the whispering in my head, but I know how to hurt it, and it knows I know. And so on.

The most disconcerting thing was, when I cut it's little head off and looked at the piece, it seemed, almost innocent... until I realised it was smiling! On the plus side, I'm still waiting for my super powers to kick in.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Great writers are truly original. Good writers cleverly plagiarise great writers. Hack writers aren't so clever, but there are so many hack writers that no one considers it plagiarism.

Wallow free zone...right here.

Ok, so I've wallowed enough and today I am going to choose a new agent. Wish me luck.

For long time readers of this blog (lol) I should provide a quick update of the goings on in the lives of my children, Princess and Little Man (not their real names). Well, Princess absolutely loves school and its extremely gratifying to see how well she has taken to it. Her reading is going ahead in leaps and bounds and she is soaking up knowledge like the proverbial sponge. Is there a proverbial sponge? None of the proverbs I know have sponges in them. I'll fix that in my Thought for the Day. So Princess loves to learn and while the topics are far and wide, the current favourite is the Olympic Games.

Princess has a new computer game that she loves. Its called Google Earth and with her new found enthusiasm for the Olympics, she can actually find not only China, but also Beijing. Once she has found these targets, she then likes to search the oceans for the tiniest islands she can find. I don't know why exactly, but she seems a little obsessed. Still, its better than playing Duke Nuke'em or some other "blow-things-up" type of game. That's best left to the professionals.

That also reminds me. She was watching a kids education program the other day when the main character relayed a fallacy as fact. She said that the Great Wall of China is the only man made object that can be seen from space. Apparently many people believe this to be true. It is not, I tell you. The Great Wall of China is an engineering feat to be sure, but it is mostly bloody long, and while it is pretty damn solid, it is not more so than a dam or major freeway. Also, I'm pretty sure dirty great big shopping malls don't grow in the wild. So I did some research and found Wikipedia had some interesting things to say about the subject (other sites too but mostly Wikipedia). Being able to see the Great Wall of China from space would be like being able to see a single strand of human hair from 2 miles away. It MAY be possible, and I stress the "may" part here, to see the Wall from a low Earth orbit (which is technically not "space") but the seeing conditions would have to be nearly perfect. So far there have not been any confirmed sightings from those in such a position (though there have been a few claims - see the Wikipedia page), it is technically possible. Aha! you might say. It is possible depending on your definition. Not really. The main point of interest is the uniqueness of the Great Wall of China's visibility from space and from a low Earth orbit, there are lots of man-made objects that could be seen. Sure, none of them are as long as the Wall, but that wasn't the claim, now was it.

Ok, on to Little Man. What a pain in the butt he can be. Today might not be the best day for me to write about that little punk as he played up something shocking last night before he went to sleep, and then woke me up several times during the night. Oddly enough, he seems to have had a really good day yesterday. While he has yet to start Kinder, it seems to me that he is VERY ready to go. Granted, not more than we are ready for him to go, but very ready nonetheless. His little mind is absorbing almost as much as Princess', perhaps more, and he is trying to verbalize every damn thought he has, whenever he has it. Mostly this is amusing and reminiscent of the kid on TV whose legs went one way and even his head went the other. At 2am, it is mostly annoying.

Later this month Little Man turns 3, and we are still pretty confident he will make it. The odds waver a little during the night. Still, 3 was a bit of a turning point for Princess so we are hoping it will also be so for Little Man. He needs kinder and the stimulation of other kids and while they don't really teach kids much in the way of formal lessons, a lot is learned. Its only twice a week for two hours and while that doesn't seem like much, it is a nice gentle introduction to school life. Mind you, this is only three-year-old kinder. It gets slightly more intense at four-year-old kinder. So now we just have to make it through to the end of the year. At least he will be three soon and I can buy him a whole new range of toys.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: The sponge holds more water than the hand.

It's a great day!

Welcome to a new era of my life. I am officially an author! Oh, I don't mean I am getting my book published or anything trite like that. No, I am officially an author because my rejection letter starts "Dear Author". I know, pretty cool, yes?

The first rejection letter is a rite of passage for fledgling authors, even dear ones, like myself. So how does it feel to have put myself out there and been smacked in the mouth, I hear you ask. Actually, its not all that bad. The form letter they send back to tell me have decided to pass on my fantastic masterpiece starts with the aforementioned "Dear Author" and goes on to say that my writing sucks and they wouldn't represent me even if I was the last "author", so-called, on the planet, and clearly I'm a git who couldn't write a coherent story and my general formatting is that of a three-year-old. And I'm stupid most likely ugly. And they have received so many other manuscripts that are all better than mine and they have to publish every single one of them so they had to draw the line somewhere and it was easy to cut mine, 'cos it was crap. Don't call us, we'll call you (as if). Kindest regards, Not Your Future Agent.

Ok, I was reading between the lines and possibly projecting a bit, but you get the drift. Oddly enough, if I had received the above letter, it would have been better than what I did receive. Well, maybe not but at least I could have been sure that they actually read my writing. The real letter is so... empty, that they might have just decided to throw a hundred submissions in the bin and send back a politically correct and completely non-committal form letter to those "Dear Authors". Don't get me wrong though. I don't really blame the agent. I'm sure that if they thought they had a shot at selling my book, they would have called. And if they didn't like it, or didn't read it, they aren't looking to alienate themselves by telling me what they really think and causing offense. Its the nature of the publishing industry.

I'm told that I'm in good company. JK Rowling was rejected several times before she got an agent, and now she is JK Rolling In Money. Most authors get rejection letters and I knew I would get mine, and now I have. So its time to have a bit of a bitch, lick my wounds and send the book to someone else. What you are reading now is the me-having-a-bitch part of the process. Its quite cathartic. And I won't name the agent because they haven't done anything wrong. Its just the way it goes. I guess I'm lucky insofar as I can publish my rant to the world thanks to the wonderful Internet. Sure, probably only DW will read it, and clearly I'm not above playing the pity card, but it feels better than staring at a list of new agents or a blank document hoping a better novel will miraculously appear that won't make people reject me. There's that pity card again.

What would really suck would be not having any other ideas. If I had written this novel and I had quit my job to "make it as a writer", things would be pretty bleak right now. But I have more ideas than time to write them. I have a solid job and a wonderful, supportive family (OK, DW is supportive but Princess and Little Man don't yet care what I do when I'm not with them). And I can always produce an EBook.

EBooks have a bit of a stigma insofar as most people don't actually want to read a novel on their computer or EBook reader, however, I believe that this will change. With the advent of electronic ink based readers, the text looks the same as on paper (or near enough) and so doesn't cause eye strain. You can fit all your novels and newspapers and email and PDFs and Word documents on them, bookmarking as you go. Your whole library will fit in your bag, along with your entire music collection. So, an eBook is a very real possibility for my novel, but I will try a few more agents first. Another good thing about eBooks is you can actually afford to sell them for a tiny amount, like one dollar, because it costs nothing to produce. Unlike a published book which has a significant upfront cost. But the stigma remains - you are not a "real" author until your book is on the shelf at Borders or can be ordered through Amazon. Well, the year is not over yet and there are several agents that haven't had the chance to reject me so I had better get cracking.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Poor me.

Welcome to the Dark Side. Now when I say "Dark Side" I am not implying that you are evil, or that I am evil, or that reading this blog in any way endorses evil. Its just that, in this part of the world, we are coming up to the shortest day of the year. For me, that means two weeks when I don't see my home town in daylight - except for the weekend. I like daylight. I like my home town. I like to see these things together. But with my train departing just as the sun starts to rise, and arriving home well past sunset, these are dark days indeed. Not bad days, just dark. Its about this time of year that I start to really look forward to spring. I have to get my Vitamin D hit at lunch time. Fortunately, winter in Victoria often affords beautifully cool yet sunny days. Today is one such day.

I finally finished my novel last year and put off the inevitably first edit, but after many delays completed that as well. This year I resolved to further refine the first few chapters with a view to sending it off to potential agents. After procrastinating for several more months, I managed to crawl across that imaginary deadline as well. Now they tell me I have to write a bloody five page synopsis and a cover letter! Don't they know how good I am at procrastinating?!? I'm actually writing this blog instead of writing the synopsis. And I'm supposed to give away the ending without all the pretty words that get you there. What's that about? Agents, publishers, editors! Its like they want you to write the book AND make it good or something.

My problem is I wax and wane in my own feelings toward the manuscript. Sometimes I think its great; other times I'm pretty sure I could wallpaper the house with the number of rejection slips I can expect. Obviously the publishing houses would have to send me several rejection slips each but I guess they have to be thorough. They wouldn't want me thinking there was hope because I only got the one rejection slip. Actually, my real problem is that I haven't gotten any rejection slips. That would be because no publisher has seen the novel because I don't have an agent because I have approached an agent because I haven't written the bloody synopsis yet. This could on a while.

One of the many things I use to distract myself from writing said synopsis is my new obsession, photography. I am trying to teach myself the finer art of using the manual controls. I read lots. I look at lots of pictures taken by people who know lots. I read some more. I take my camera into the field and promptly forget everything. I then take five or six hundred shots of one flower and then trawl through to find the one shot that doesn't look like I fell over while the shutter was open. I am finding my retention of crucial information such as f-stops and film speeds and how they relate to each other and the shutter speed to produce an exposure to be somewhat lacking. Also, I can't frame to save myself. If someone pointed a gun at me and told me to take a picture of a barn I was standing in, there is no guarantee the barn would actually appear in the picture. But I am getting better, and that's important.

I still haven't had a decent night to do much astrophotography but I think I've figured out a better way to mount the camera. My moon shots turned out kind of ok, but as I mentioned before, I forget all the basics as soon as I start taking shots, so I had the ISO speed wrong - again! Oh well. I guess I'll just keep going until I either become proficient or I fill up all the available hard drives I have. At this rate, I've got until the end of next week.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: All is not lost! I just misplaced it a little.

Back so soon, eh?

Ok, so I kind of glossed over the whole ten years of marriage but I would like to jump back to that now. DW and I got married on the 28th of March, 1998. It was a cool, late Autumn day and the morning was pretty bleak. It was raining and I had a hangover from my impromptu second bucks night the night before, courtesy of my groomsmen and my sister, whom I shall call Air, to protect her identity. Fortunately it wasn't one of those stick-your-arm-down-your-throat-because-even-that-will-feel-better-than-this kind of hangovers, just a regular one. We had a few things to do before the wedding, which was scheduled for after lunch, so I had time to recover. The rain dissipated and we headed out to the church. As is customary, we arrived before DW and her entourage, though technically she wasn't DW then. Amusingly, her nickname up to that point was "Butch", but I won't go into that. Suffice it to say, she prefers DW.

While we were waiting and people were arriving and looking nervous for me, my groomsmen kept shoving chocolate and lollies and OJ at me. DW had apparently worded them up on my little "low-blood-sugar" problem. Its not really a super-power as such, but it does allow me to faint spectacularly at precisely the most inappropriate time. Combined with the copious amount of coffee I had consumed earlier, the sugar rush had me humming. I don't mean humming as in singing with my mouth shut, rather I was vibrating so fast I was slightly blurry to the naked eye.

When DW finally arrived, she looked decidedly upset, but she told me that she was just so happy, and it wasn't because she was only marrying me because I was her last option. She assured me I wasn't, which I have taken as a compliment.

Though it was pretty cold and quite windy, the day went very well. We headed off to have some photos taken by our "professional" (so-called) photographer and then over to the reception, which was also very nice, though I don't remember much of it. I organized three video cameras to film the event and I had every intention to cut a nice, concise wedding video together before our first anniversary. As it happens, that became my 10th wedding anniversary present to DW, though I must say, while ten years to edit a wedding video does seem a little on the long side, the technological improvements that have occurred during that time have meant a far better video in the end. Still, I got it done, for better or worse.

So here we are, ten years and two kids later, and we still like each other. Certainly enough to bother celebrating our ten years. It has been a lot of fun, and has had all the hallmarks of a good marriage. We laugh, cry, fight, make-up, work, play, relax and go crazy together still. And that's a good thing.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: I wanted a sign that says "Beware of the guard squirrel. It goes for the nuts" but DW said not unless we actually get a guard squirrel, which she knows I will never do.

Good morning. Time to start blogging again.

I noticed this morning that it was February when I last posted a blog. It is now nearly the middle of the year. Looking back over the last few months, I can see why I haven't been blogging. So much has been happening, both at work and at home, that I haven't been taking the time to focus on my writing - at least with respect to this blog.

So, what in the world has happened?

Well, Princess is learning to read. Little Man has truly committed himself to the role of "two-year-old terror". DW and I made it to the big "Ten Years of Marriage". And I developed a brand new obsession. Now I know what you are thinking. Learning to read is pretty cool.

Its been a very interesting journey for Princess. She absolutely loves school and has really immersed herself in the joys of learning. Her reading has dramatically improved and she even explained to us recently how cannibals used special forks to eat the brains from their victims. I suspect she is learning as much from her classmates as from her teachers. At least Santa and the Easter Bunny are still safe.

Despite the new routine and excitement each school day brings, Princess is finding our less stimulating home environment something of a bore. She nags either for food or for interactive entertainment. This doesn't mean she wants to play on the computer or our non-existent PlayStation 3. No, she wants DW or I to jump about like an idiot for her amusement. DW steadfastly refuses and fair enough.

One of the games the two kids LOVE to play is Tickle-monster. Its a pretty simple game which involves me lying on my back on the floor and occasionally grabbing them when they get close enough and growling "tttttiiiiiiccccckkkkkkklllelllele MMOOONNNSSSTTEEERRRRRRR!!!!" We have been forced to establish the toilet rule which involves Princess going to the toilet BEFORE we start. As soon as Little Man forgoes his nappies, he to will be subject to this rule.

Mostly Princess is too nervous to come near me very often so it actually takes a bit of cunning to catch her. She WANTS to be tickled but can't bring herself to be subjected to it easily. Little Man has a slightly different approach which involves him jumping up and down on my chest or stomach until I get sick of it and tickle him. I have learned to keep my knees up to protect my groin - it mostly works. The only other rule is that the game ends when one or both kids start crying. The game doesn't last very long.

Little Man has gone through that dramatic phase of discovering the power of language. I don't mean its over and he now talks like an adult. But he has gone past the simple expression of emotions and words, to communicating far more complex thoughts, even if they are a little disjoint. I suspect there is probably a technical psychological term for it but if you have seen a child go through it, you would know what I mean. Princess went through it and it was a joy then too. While even babies have personality, it seems quite muted in comparison to this sudden burst of self expression. Of course, now he has so much personality we can't shut him up.

DW cops the brunt of Little Man's new found enthusiasm for expressing every damn thought in his head, along with Princess' need for entertainment as well as her near exhaustion from running around entertaining everyone at school. Little Man is still deciding if he is going to give up his day sleep or not but I suspect it will happen soon. But DW keeps it all together and keeps the house running. Next year Little Man starts kinder. Seven months seems like a long time.

Well, that's it for today. If you want to know about my new obsession, hop over to http://splutterbang.blogspot.com/ and check it out. For those that can't be bothered, my new obsession is photography. DW and I purchased a digital SLR for our ten year wedding anniversary (we bought the analogue equivalent when we got married). I have selfishly dominated the use of this new toy and some of the photos will go up on SplutterBang!.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Yesterday is tomorrow's day before yesterday. Does it know that?

Step right up folks, the show is about to begin!

Ok, now where was I? That's right. Blogging.

Princess has been at school for a few weeks now and she is absolutely loving it. She has already impressed the teachers with her exuberance, vitality and ability to speak while running, jumping, eating and drinking. She has also been quick to make friends and to hear her tell it, her entire class, plus several of the other classes, are her very best friends. The school she attends is quite large and there are four Prep classes of nearly 20 kids in each. Princess has already been nominated as the class representative on the Junior School Council for her class, though she has no idea what that actually entails.

Probably the most pleasing thing to hear is how ready Princess is to help out her class mates. Some of the other kids have had a hard time adjusting to school life and Princess is always ready to jump in and try to make them feel at home. She worries about how other kids feel. I guess no matter how we might feel as parents in terms of success, we can always just look at how our little girl is turning out to get a fair idea of how we are doing. Obviously there is still along way to go, but so far, I must say I'm very proud of her.

Princess has not only embraced the social side of school, but also the academic side. Every night when I come home she has something new to show or tell me that she learned that day. In only a few weeks her writing has shown remarkable improvement and I am confident she will be reading fluently very soon. All in all she is growing up very quickly.

While I remember I should mention a little conversation I overheard between Princess and Little Man a few days ago. A TV show about dinosaurs came on and Princess and Little Man were very excited.

Princess: Wow! This show has dinosaurs. We haven't seen this one for ages!
Little Man: Yay! Dinosaurs!
Princess: But those dinosaurs are bad. We don't like them.
Little Man: I like them.
Princess: Shut up, you fool.

It was like my children were channelling the A-Team.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: If I am a blogger, are you the bloggee??

Chutney! Too few blogs start with it.

Ok, so its time to tell the world about Princess' first day at school. In the days leading up to that wonderful event, DW had made sure that ALL the little things had been taken care of. Labels, books, pencils, lunch boxes, drink bottles, hair ties, school logos, more labels, hats, shoes, haircuts, textas, school bag and even more labels. We even coaxed Princess to bed at a reasonable time, though she was so excited that I'm sure she lay awake for a long time. But fortunately she was so worried that something might happen to prevent her going to school, such as being naughty and told she would have to wait another year, she was as quiet as a mouse. Little did she realise that we were just as excited as she was, and naughty or not, she was going to school come hell or high water.

Well, perhaps we were not quite as excited as she was. At 6:22am she came into our room fully dressed with her hat and bag on and her lunchbox and drink bottle already packed. There was no food or water in them yet but she didn't care. In her loudest whisper she hissed,"I'M READY TO GO."

Well that was how our morning started. Eventually, after she had eaten as much breakfast as her excited little tummy could handle, the time finally came to leave. Little Man was a little confused as to the commotion but he's pretty laid back about things so we got his little "school bag" ready, opened the front door and let Princess loose on the world. We headed off on our three minute walk to the school about 27 minutes earlier than we needed to. Needless to say we arrived very early. But we were not the only ones. Many of Princess' friends from Kinder and Mum's Group were also attending the same school so there was lots of catching up amongst the mums, and the kids, but mostly Princess just wanted to get in there and start the learnin'.

Eventually the doors opened and we were swept up in the flow of people like water going down the plug hole. We found Princess' room and bag hook and somehow found our way through the quagmire and into her classroom. The teacher was all ready taking photos of the new arrivals and we had our "first day" family photo taken. Once that was over, we found Princess' name card on a table and she settled in and started drawing a picture. Other kids were hugging their parents goodbye, clinging on to legs, or being strangled by weeping mothers. Some had decided to run around and jump they were so excited and some parents were already yelling at their kids to calm down because they hadn't even been in the school for five minutes and already they were acting like idiots. But Princess was already sitting down and working. She was there for the learning and it was time to start. She took a moment for a quick hug goodbye and got straight back to it. She barely looked up as we left. She had already finished her first picture and was starting her second. She was ready. Let the learning begin.

I was able to have the day off so that I could be with Princess on her first day. DW and I walked Little Man home and then sat and had a coffee. We had made it. We got Princess into the school system in one piece. It had been touch and go there for a while. So we sat and had a quiet moment while Little Man ate his snack. When DW had made Princess' lunch, Little Man insisted that he too should have a lunch box, so she prepare something for him. As soon as we got inside, he sat himself down in the entry and proceed to eat his snack. After the walk and something to eat, he was tired and went down for his nap so finally, it was completely quiet at our house. Little Man slept for two hours. It was amazing, not because it was quiet, but more because this kind of quiet would happen every school day. That was the most amazing thing of all.

But all too soon the peace had to come to an end. Little man woke up and had to be fed and the first three days of school for Princess ended at 1pm so we all headed back down to the school and found the same collection of parents waiting patiently outside the classrooms. I think some of them actually waited there. Anyway, eventually Princess came racing out and proceeded to try to tell us everything she had done while simultaneously showing us all the new playground skills she had developed while simultaneously running a separate conversation with each and every other child in the playground at the time. Eventually I convinced her to come home for some lunch and then had to convince DW to come home as well, because she got caught up chatting with the other mums. A couple of Princess' friends also walk the same way we do so our little contingent headed off, the first day of school over.

I think Princess spent those first few days thinking that maybe school was going to suddenly stop or something, and she'd be home again, forever. She was desperate to get back there and still takes some encouragement to leave. At least now she is starting to realise that she only has to stay home on weekends, holidays and when she is sick. And she is really loving it. But more on that next time.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Also chutney. Too few blogs end with it.