Archive for May, 2009

Weekend reads: part 1

Three: a study in irrationality and cunning

NS May 26th, 2009

Interacting with The Noble Child all day is at times extraordinarily frustrating and, at others, extremely amusing. A lot of what she says and does falls somewhere in between the two. Her inability to understand certain concepts while at the same time being able to exploit situations or people to get what she wants often takes me aback. This is what being three is all about. Take, for example, some recent antics.

At her 3rd birthday party

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you
Happy birthdaaaaay dear The Noble Child
Happy birthday to you

“Here’s your cupcake!”

[Takes a bite] “Oh thank you, this is deeeeelicious!”

(Two minutes later): “Mummy, I dropped my cupcake, can I have a different one?”

“Aww. Sure, here you go.” [Looks over in time to see TNC lick the icing off the top off then throw the rest on the floor behind her chair, where the previous cupcake had met the same fate and been discarded]

Upon refusing to eat her dinner and then locking me into the dining room and taking the key out of the door whilst I fed her brother

“I got the key, Mummy!”

“Child, you’d best put that key back in the door and let me out.”

“No! I don’t want to eat my chicken and cous cous. I want a biscuit.”

“You can’t have a biscuit if you haven’t eaten your dinner. Just unlock the door.”

“Look my face.”

“What?”

“Look my face, I said”

“But I can’t see your face, you’re on the other side of the door.”

“Listen to me when I talking to you! I’m Mummy and you’re me.”

“Oh, right. We’re playing that game, are we? Okay then, ‘Please let me out, Mummy!’”

“Not until you eat all your dinner up so you get bigger bigger bigger!”

“But I’m not hungry. I want to play! Pleeeease let me out?”

“No. I’m the Mummy and I say eat your dinner!”

“Okay, fine [gobbles up the last of the child's dinner]. All gone! Now unlock this door.”

[Opens door] “Good girl, you eat it all up! Now I get a biscuit.”

Damn, she’s good.

Trying to grasp the concept of the new sticker chart, whereupon she must earn five stickers for good behaviour to get a treat or reward

“Well done, TNC, you get a sticker for that!”

“Do I get a treat now?”

“No, not yet. You’ve got two stickers now so you must earn three more to get a treat.”

“Can I have more stickers now?”

“No, you have to earn them by doing nice things, like picking up your toys or eating your dinner or getting dressed without screaming. Once you get five stickers for doing those things, you can have a treat.”

“Yes, I’d like a treat.”

“Good, then you just need to do three more nice things and you’ll get one.”

“Can I have a treat now?”

Sigh.

On comprehending that she gets a sticker for sharing toys with The Noble Baby

“I was a good girl and shared my toy with him so that means I get a sticker!”

“Yes, that’s right, well done!”

[TNC grabs the toy back from her brother] “Hey, wait, that’s not very nice, you’re supposed to be sharing.”

“I *am* sharing, Mummy. Look, I give it back to him again. That means I get ANOTHER sticker!”

“It doesn’t really work like that…”

“Do I get a treat now?”

“Do you have five stickers?”

“Yes.”

“No, you don’t. You have four. See? One, two, three, four stickers. You need one more before you get a treat.”

[She grabs the toy out of TNB's hands again, causing him to wail] “Okay, I give it back to him now, see? NOW I get five stickers and NOW I get a treat. Hooray!”

[Trying to soothe crying baby and fed up with the whole thing now] “Yeah, whatever, go on then. Have your treat. Off you go.”

I pause and then call out after her: “But eat Daddy’s chocolate, not Mummy’s. You have to get ten stickers for that.”

Not fade away

NS May 24th, 2009

I usually get The Noble Baby to sleep by nursing him in my arms and then laying him down in the cot once he’s asleep, or nearly asleep. Usually just a little gentle back-rubbing and the whirring sound of a nearby fan are enough to send him into a peaceful slumber. But this evening he didn’t fall asleep at my breast and when I tried to put him on his side and give him a pat, he just rolled onto his back and stared at me in quiet contemplation. I smiled and reached down to stroke his smooth-as-silk cheeks and rub my palm over the fuzzy blond down sprouting all over his perfectly-shaped head. Those blue eyes (more like mine than my daughter’s are) looking back at me, into me, like love’s arrow to my heart. The tiny pink lips, Cupid’s envy.

I began to softly sing a lullaby, one that I made up when TNC was a baby and that I sing to her still.

Let’s lie down and rest our heads
Let’s lie down, it’s time for bed
Let’s lie down and count some sheep
It’s off to dreamland, off to sleep

He was asleep after about four renditions.

Still, I couldn’t make myself straighten up and creep away. I remained, crouched over the railing, my hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of a sleep unencumbered by worries or fears or uncertainties. Despite the dull ache in my lower back, I remained, allowing myself to indulge in a silent reverie with him.

My son. My beautiful, wonderful son. Do you know how fiercely, deeply and completely I adore you? Will you ever?

I am regularly awoken before the promise of dawn has edged out nightfall’s sojourn and still, I manage to smile. I push myself up on one elbow to look at you, cooing and babbling in bed next to me, your feet pushing against the soft and yielding flesh of my abdomen, your former home. I trace the deep reddish stretchmarks that spread across me like a roadmap of creation, the topography of love. You and your sister made this map — made me — by giving me direction and making life’s path clear. I snuggle closer and create another memory, filing it away for a day when you’re older, more independent, further away.

Like the stretchmarks, I hope they never fade.

Depravity with dolls

NS May 23rd, 2009

If you thought we’d made some progress on normalizing breastfeeding and that, really, us lactivists get our knickers in a twist over nothing, then what does one say to this?

I am at a loss for words, frankly, so I’ll have to let others do the explaining.

Needless to say, my daughter has exhibited the exact same “disgusting” and “depraved” behaviour with her dolls and will, according to some people, surely end up mentally scarred and socially outcast as a result of being witness to the filth of seeing me nurse her brother. Insert heavy sigh and massive eye roll here.

Nothing makes me laugh more than people shielding children’s eyes from breastfeeding, saying that they shouldn’t see ‘that’. Kids are the only ones who aren’t bothered by it and understand that it’s totally normal, it seems! Talk about needless sexualization…pushing your boobie hangups onto impressionable young children who hadn’t even thought of breasts as sexual until a hand was clapped over their eyes amid shouts of “zOmg!!1!! The children might see babies being fed with men’s and ad agencies’ playthings! Quick, throw a blanket over that woman and her dirty jezebel udders!”

Seriously folks, your ignorance is astoundingly embarrassing. Give it a rest already, or else I might have to squirt milk in your eye. And we all know that if breastmilk touches human retinas it renders you completely and permanently blind within seconds, such is the power of its destructiveness. Mmwaahahahahaha!

Long live depravity.

Blogs I love

NS May 21st, 2009

I go through stages with the blogs on my RSS reader. I enjoy and read them all but, depending on my frame of mind, mood or situation, click on certain ones first and excitedly whenever they update. Some of them are blogs I’ve been reading for years, others for only a few months or even weeks. My current favourites are:

Feminist Philosophers

Her Bad Mother

Mothers For Women’s Lib

Single Parent Dad

The Feminist Breeder

This Is Worthwhile

Unneccesarean

PhD In Parenting

My Mental Attic

Jen’s Den of Iniquity

A Free Man

Who are you reading?

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