Smash bang crash

Aidan likes smash bang crash.

He likes to perform smash bang crash, hear and talk about smash bang crash, and think about smash bang crash.

He is attracted to long sticks and pipes (which he uses to thrash the foliage around the property). Sometimes the sticks are swords or light sabres. He likes superhero play - Spiderman swinging from building to building using webs, pirates with swords, Yoda (Aidan) fighting Darth Vader or Count Dooku (Brendon). He likes tackling and play fighting on the carpet with whoever is up for it - whatever their size!

His most recent choices of books from the library were one about the Titanic (a particular fascination with the pictures of the ship breaking up and sinking) and ones about the solar system. He likes the theory of how Saturn got its rings - a comet smashing a moon into smithereens which, attracted by the large planet's gravity, stayed around in circular form. He looks at pictures of planets orbiting the sun, learning each name by heart. He likes to hear about comets blazing through the skies.

Aidan likes to throw things and watch as items fly through space, across floors, onto high places. Balls are good, but random household items are even better, as they tend to attract more adult attention. He likes to take things to pieces, break things apart, and scatter them.

Theoretically, Aidan can be described as expressing two related schema interests - trajectory and disconnection. I was interested to read how our friend Hazel (who is also a trajectory child) has taken up disconnection recently. She's a bit older than Aidan, and her disconnections seem to be taking a slightly different form. They are possibly using similar methods to explore different concepts. However, I wonder if a connection between these two schemas is a common one?

Practically - all this can make Aidan a real handful! Throwing, thwacking and scattering are three things that adults and bystander children can (understandably) find difficult to manage. Redirection seems to help, as does positive attention (catching him doing the socially acceptable versions of smash bang crash and encouraging them, rather than the less desirable manifestations).

I'm really pleased I did a workshop on superhero play and read a book (We don't play with guns here - author forgotten I'm afraid ) on all this while Aidan was still a baby. Recent thought on the kind of robust play that is most commonly (but definitely not exclusively) associated with some boys of a certain age is that it should not be suppressed. Children who are driven to play war games, tackle and the like tend to do it in secret behind the bike shed if it is officially banned. It's thought that instead, this kind of play should take place out in the open where it can be moderated by the supervising adults and some basic rules can be observed and enforced. So embracing smash bang crash helps. Adults who join in with the robust play can help Aidan learn how to smash bang crash in a way that ensures that nobody and nothing gets damaged. Talking and imagining about smash bang crash extends him mentally in a way that he finds captivating and attractive.

So, despite our desire for just a minute's peace and nice quiet children so I can have a cup of tea, it seems to be better in the long term to provide for children to do what children have always done, in a way that keeps everyone happy and safe.

Yes, Aidan can sometimes frustrate me and tire me out. And it's no fun being the parent of the child who's just given another child the bash. But I wouldn't change my cheeky, energetic little rogue for anything! I think our society would be the poorer if we tried to suppress the risk takers, the challengers of authority, those who test and question the limits. As in most things, the challenge is in finding the balance and keeping everyone safe. I sometimes say to Aidan: "Are you using that toy for the power of good or the power of evil?" (He likes and responds to the Star Wars-ish language!) He knows full well that a turn to the dark side results in confiscations and other undesirable consequences.

The next step of course is getting him to internalise the moderation that the supervising adults provide. Many years' work I think! But parenting has always been a marathon rather than a sprint.

Fun for the whole family

We have had a minor change around in the lounge in anticipation of the back room being transformed into Isabelle's new bedroom. The bookcase and its books now (temporarily) live in the lounge.

It's always interesting checking out other people's bookshelves.

So, out of this list, can you spot which ones are Brendon's and which ones are mine? It's the first few from the top shelf, so it's a fairly random selection.

Answers below....don't cheat now!

1. Virginia Woolf A Room of One's Own
2. Friedrich Nietzche Thus Spoke Zarathustra
3. Jean-Paul Satre Nausea
4. George Eliot George Eliot (Three of her novels published together)
5. Chuck Palahniuk Fight Club
6. A.S. Byatt Possession
7. William Faulkner Light in August
8. Goethe Faust
9. George Woodcock (ed.) The Anarchist Reader
10. Albert Camus The Plague
11. Emily Perkins Leave Before You Go
12. Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Slaughterhouse 5



And the answers....

1. Mary
2. Brendon
3. Brendon
4. Mary
5. Mary
6. Mary
7. Brendon
8. Brendon
9. Brendon
10. Brendon
11. Brendon

Spot the difference

Words matter.

What do these words mean to you?

Babysitting
Child care
Day care
Early Childhood Education

Let's see....to me....(generalising of course...)

Babysitting - low status, short time period, might mean just ensuring the kids don't kill each other, burn the house down or harass the cat. Done by teenagers for pay, or relatives for a favour.

Child care - professional. Looking after your child, ensuring their needs are met. Longer term, longer duration.

Day care - like child care, except has the connotation of being used while you go to work.

Early Childhood Education - ahhhh! All the good stuff. Empowering! Learning! Growth! Development!

I wonder if we as parents feel differently about our choices if we label them differently.

How much I don't know

Why won't you answer my questions?
Why oh why oh why?
Because I don't know the answers, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!

from Songs To Grow On For Mother And Child, Woody Guthrie.

Having young children highlights for me just how much I don't know. The constant "why" questions make one's knowledge gaps uncomfortably clear.

Some things I know well enough. Examples might be "Why is it Tuesday?", "Why do we have teeth?" or "Why do I have to wash the germs off my hands?". Other things I know to a reasonable level - but nagging questions remain in my own mind after I've given the age-appropriate explanation that (sometimes!) satisfies the youngsters' curiousity. Examples of this category are more "Why are there germs?", "What is dirt made of?" or "Why is there the sun?".

Sometimes we do the "learning together" thing - "I'm not sure myself, let's look it up on the computer". However, this is mighty hard to do in the car, or during the frantic meal-preparation time of day. And sometimes they just want a quick answer, not necessarily a full-on exploration of all the ins and outs.

I think the main thing to do is to take the questions seriously, not to fob them off with "Because I say so". Discretion is required in terms of which questions need a full answer, and which ones can be answered via the express route. It's about fostering that curiousity and moulding it into the life-long love of learning that many of us wish for our children to have. It's about making them aware of how to get and evaluate information - from the computer, from books, from parents, from other adults and peers. It's also about children seeing that parents have a lot of valuable information and knowledge, but that they do not know it all either.

Ailments and afflications

Here is a list of Playcentre-related things that either I, or others in my family have suffered from. Be warned - Early Childhood Education can be dangerous.

Repetitive Swing Injury (RSI). Sufferers are always adults who have got caught by the swings for most of a session on a day where many, many children want to be pushed. And pushed. And pushed.

Vice Distress (VD). Occurs when an adult misjudges the distance between their thigh and the child-height metal vices in the carpentry area.

Overload of Snot (OOS). Enough said.

Systemic Transfer Disruption (STD). A general label for a number of symptoms which mean that the sufferer takes an inordinate amount of time to leave Playcentre at the end of session. Usually involves many trips between car/buggy and the Playcentre building, many bags, large pieces of creative art or craft, stalling by children, chatting, returning excessive numbers of transitional objects and remembering vital details just as you are about to close the gate for the last time.

Playcentre Adhesive Syndrome (PAS). Related to STD. A child suffering from PAS will be extraordinarily hard to remove at the end of session, or at an older sibling's drop off.

Glitter on Baby Syndrome (GOBS). The key symptom is the adhering of glitter to your baby's scalp. Months later, there is always just one more piece of glitter to be found.

Fingerpaint under Contacts (FUC). Adults wearing contact lenses are at increased risk of this ailment when supervising fingerpainting by trajectory schema children. Very painful. Makes you want to cuss.

Acute Dress or Hair Distress (ADHD). Children affected by this are highly sensitive to the announcement that the departure for Playcentre is imminent, unless their dress and hair style is to their absolute satisfaction.

Insistent Lunch Lurking (ILL). See PAS above. Children who show signs of being ILL refuse to leave at session's end, and hang out with the on-duty children who are starting to eat their packed lunch. Often accompanied by hopeful searches of their own bags. Sometimes treated by allowing a packed lunch at session's end.

Wisdom from the Dalai Lama

I skimmed an article on the Dalai Lama yesterday. One of his responses really caught my attention. On being asked what made him happy, he replied with something like "Nine hour's sleep at night".

Yes. Yes. Oh yes.

And she's over!

Plunket for Orla today - she is 6.54 kg and just below the 50th centile for weight and length! I'm very pleased, especially given that she started on the 3rd.

This afternoon, I placed her on the rug for tummy time - and over she flipped! She lay on her back, startled, almost shocked looking. My obvious pleasure at her manoeuvre soon had her smiling again. She repeated the roll almost immediately, but then got upset and wanted to be held. I don't think she had any idea how she had ended up on her back and it was just all too much!

She didn't repeat the feat for Daddy on his homecoming, but I'm sure we'll have some more flips in the near future.

Interesting nail

Aidan has an interesting nail. It became interesting when he took a tumble off the couch. He said he hit it on a cushion, but there must have (at least) been something under the cushion, as his thumb was very sore and the nail turned black immediately. It stopped growing, and now, finally, the nail is lifting up to reveal the fresh new nail underneath.

Aidan is very interested in his interesting nail. He likes to lift it up and peek at the fresh growth. He was very keen for me to take photos. So here they are.

Bathroom

Well, our bathroom is fully functional! Here's about the best photo I can manage. The bath has turned 90 degrees. New wall-mounted vanity, new mirror cupboard, new shower. Lino people are due any day now. The walls are yet to be painted, but the plasterer finished the preparations on Friday.

We are still deciding what to do about the walls. We have a new quote for a professional paint job - naturally there are quite a few dollars involved! So it is back to the familiar conundrum of deciding whether to throw money or time at the task, when both are in ever-decreasing supply.

Even though it's half-finished, I can tell that it will be a vast improvement on the old bathroom, both in terms of function and looks. The insulation makes a big difference to how warm it feels, the shower is so much easier to keep clean, and hopefully we can say goodbye to floods and constant water spills.

Next task - turning our back bedroom/junk room into a cosy, attractive room for Isabelle.

Slow cooked

The beef was fine.

The meat definitely had the slow-cooked texture to it.

(Brendon just read over my shoulder and after reading aloud the first sentence, said "depends who you ask" !!!!!!!).

Slow cooking

My slow cooker has just embarked on its maiden voyage.

I am cooking up "Busy Day Beef Casserole" from my Alison and Simon Holst slow cooker book.

In six hours or so, dinner should be ready.

The dirty bakery

Being Tuesday, today was Isabelle's drop off day at Playcentre. Much to Aidan's chagrin, he doesn't stay and play, but has to leave with Orla and me.

Last week, he did really well and came first time I called. As a reward to us both, we had morning tea at the Crofton Downs cafe before doing our errands.

Today, he ignored my calls at first. I reminded him of last week's morning tea, and of the chocolate biscuits at home. Once again, bribery and corruption won the day, and he came.

Aidan likes to ride in Isabelle's car seat when she is not in the car. This is no problem - it just requires a bit of adjustment of the harness. The harness was on maximum size this morning due to the number of layers Isabelle likes to wear. On Monday, the bulk of her nine layers of clothing was such that I had to get her to remove her jacket so I could do up her belt.

Once home, Orla went to sleep. Aidan got his chocolate biscuit. We heard the rubbish truck come and raced to the letterbox to wave at the rubbish collectors. Aidan was very pleased when they tooted. Back at the washing line, Aidan played "the dirty bakery" with me. This involves him scooping up dirt into a tin and pretending that it contains a number of treats. I partook of a sausage roll and a cake.

Next, we raced back to the street to see the recycling crew do their thing. Again, we got a toot and a wave, and one satisfied little boy.

After asking for a story, Aidan got a particularly cheeky look on this face and left the room carrying a stool. My suspicions of a raid of Isabelle's "special book pile" (hidden in her room) were soon confirmed. As the chosen volume was a library book, I thought that this was fine - so long as the book was carefully returned.

Later in the morning I realised that Aidan had been quiet a bit too long. Sure enough, there he was in Isabelle's room, applying her lipstick and wearing a multitude of beads and bracelets. As we needed to go to Playcentre, I managed to convince him to leave the bracelets (at least) behind.

Isabelle noticed the lipstick on his face immediately, but took it well. The beads had been left in the car.

Next Tuesday, the three of us are going to Orla's Plunket check.

Slow cooker

I am now the owner of a slow cooker.

I have been the owner of a slow cooker cookbook for well over a year now. Finally, today I was able to exchange a FlyBuys voucher for a 6 litre, oval Russel Hobbs appliance.

It's all clean and ready to go. Not sure what I'll try first - maybe a simple beef casserole.

Matariki

Last night we had a social event at Playcentre for Matariki. Matariki marks the rising of the Pleiades constellation. Traditionally, this is the time of the Maori New Year. Marking Matariki has grown in popularity immensely over the last few years.

In some ways, I am in two minds about this. On one hand, I really like that it is a home-grown festival. Something relevant to where we are in the world. An acknowledgment of things Maori. On the other, it feels a bit artificial, a bit new - "gosh, we need some home-grown festivals! Aha, let's piggyback on the traditional Maori New Year!". Obviously if you have been brought up steeped in Maori culture, you will not have this reaction. On the other hand, maybe you might feel like the Pagans did when the Christians started claiming winter solstice....

Anyway, there has been some build-up to this at Playcentre in the last few sessions. We've had readings of Matariki stories, waiata, and crafts (such as Matariki mobiles, which really caught Isabelle's imagination. Her mobile is hanging up in the lounge now).

Isabelle in particular was really looking forward to the evening. We dressed warmly. I loaded up all three into the car. Unloaded them at the takeaway shop. Bought a hamburger for me, hot dogs for Isabelle and Aidan, and chips and Coke to share. Loaded everyone back in. Down to Playcentre. Unloaded children, food and drink. By the time we sat down to eat, I was no longer feeling cold at all and was certainly ready for food. Before long, Brendon joined us fresh from work.

It was a lovely evening. The children and adults seemed to have a good time. There were waiata, poi, and stories. Isabelle twirled two poi, mouth open in concentration, totally captured by their circular paths. Aidan watched the flight of his poi, jumping with excitement. Orla snuggled up to Brendon and slept. Flax was manipulated. There was a treasure hunt in the dark outside. The children used torches to find coloured sticks that had been placed around the play area. Then it was inside for icecreams. Finally, fireworks blazed in the darkness.

I commented to someone at the time that this is probably more like Guy Fawkes is "supposed" to be. Fireworks in the dark, cool air at a time convenient to young children's bed times!

So it was a thumbs up for the Matariki celebration. To my children, it may well be that this occasion is as natural an annual event as Queen's birthday, Easter or Wellington Anniversary Day. In the meantime, I will try and remember to hold back a few fireworks from November to burn in the chill and blackness of June, as we look forward to new beginnings as the days slowly start to lengthen once again.

Walk

On Friday, I wasn't on duty at Playcentre. I decided that we would all walk down for the drop off rather than use the car.

I haven't walked to Playcentre for a very long time. When pregnant with Aidan, I walked with Isabelle in the pram until the very end. But with the third pregnancy, it was just too much of a mission almost from the start to push both back up the hill in the tandem pram. And since Orla was born, again, that hill seemed like such a barrier! The problem is that the children go to sleep on the way home. Two scenarios ensue. In the first one, they wake up as we get home, refreshed and ready for action. I, on the other hand, are exhausted and desperately needing a break. Not a great combination! In the second scenario, the children stay asleep. I am unable, however, to get the pram down the steps to the house without either waking or endangering them. I wake them up. You can imagine the mood they are now in. And, I'm exhausted and desperately needing a break....

But the weather was good on Friday, so I thought we'd give it a go. It went very well. The older two happily made it down the hill, and I made it back reasonably happily. Orla did sleep in the front pack, so I didn't get any child-free time at home, but that was fine. Exercise is good, free, and better for the environment.

I did take the car down to pick them up again, which was a good call, given how tired Aidan was.
I am looking forward to more walks in the future - weather and tiredness permitting. Good practice for the school run....

Zoo

Isabelle had accumulated enough "clean room" stickers to qualify for a reward. She chose a trip to the zoo.

The last time we went to the zoo was the day before Orla was born.

As it happens, there is a deal on at the moment where you get half price entry to the zoo if you take the bus. With the bus to the zoo only a few minutes walk from our place, it seemed like a great opportunity.

So yesterday, off we went. We caught the 9.15 bus with two other families. The children were in high spirits. I had decided earlier that we would not be taking the stroller: Aidan would have to walk. As this was a first for him (for a longish trip) I thought that I just wouldn't mention it at all and see how we went.

We did all the usual zoo things. The children pointed excitedly at the ducks, (uncaged) birds and guinea pigs (apparently the more exotic animals made less of an immediate impression!). But the large charismatic mammals were, as always, very interesting and most obliged by being visible to small people.

Within five minutes of arriving, the requests for morning tea started being made. Naturally this was a highlight of the trip, and I had come prepared with two lunch boxes of food. We could see red pandas from the kiosk, high up in the trees.

There is a lot of construction going on at the moment. This meant that there was an exceedingly interesting display involving a digger and a dump truck. The children were entranced by this for several minutes, peering under the barrier, watching as the worker expertly manoeuvred his machinery through space.

Our family caught the 12.35 bus home. Aidan fell asleep on the way back, and upon being woken up at our bus stop was outraged in his tiredness, refusing to move and attempting to lie on the floor under the seat. Eventually I managed to get the struggling boy out of the bus. With Orla in the front pack and a back pack on, this was not easy. The poor boy was wailing on the concrete and I was dreading the thought of getting him back up the hill to our house. I resorted to: "Look what's open! The fish and chip shop! Well, the fish and chip shop is also an ice block shop! Who would like an ice block?"

This worked marvellously well. Two happy children walked slowly up the hill licking rainbow paddle pops, with a lollipop (courtesy of the shop owner) firmly clasped in the other hand.

So, it looks like we don't need the stroller (so long as I am prepared to resort to bribery and corruption at vital moments!).

Isabelle said her favourite was the sun bear. Aidan's favourite was the giraffe. I went with the chimpanzees. Orla slept for most of the zoo trip, cuddled up to me in her front pack.

I fell asleep in my chair around 7.45 that evening.

Roly-poly

Well, not quite, but she's getting there!

This morning Orla managed to get from her back all the way over to her left hand side.

We also had another "first" this morning - first time facing forward in the front pack. Orla seemed to enjoy her improved view of the world, looking all around, flapping her arms and kicking her legs with gusto.

She is continuing to be more alert, more successful in getting things from hand to mouth, more interactive with her environment. She is slightly more settled lately as well, which makes life easier for me!

On the wearing of skirts

I usually wear trousers. Jeans. Trackies. I do this because they are practical and comfortable. Trousers means that the lower half is instantly taken care of. Trousers means that for those who are bothered about leg hair, you are instantly covered up (thus stretching out the number of days between hair removal).

It didn't used to be this way. When I was working, I had several skirts and dresses in my regular wardrobe. Some were long, and some were short. I didn't really have anything in between.

The wearing of skirts is still an Important Issue, judging by the letters to the editor whenever Helen Clark wears trousers to a state function. I admit that, for special occasions, I invariably prefer the skirted look for myself. I am unaffected and not bothered by the choices of other women - although I would probably be surprised if a bride turned up in trousers, or a woman attended a ball thus dressed. But I wouldn't feel personally affronted.

Recently I added two skirts to my "tidy casual" winter wardrobe. I particularly wanted skirts, because I was tiring of always wearing jeans. Or trackies. I chose mid-length skirts, one charcoal, the other black with red paneling.

The wearing of skirts is more complicated than trousers. First, I must consider whether or not to wear tights (or pantyhose, or stockings). And then there's the shoe thing. Some shoes look silly with skirts. Then there's the related heel-height issue - again, more important to me when going trouserless.

So, the other day I decided to wear my charcoal grey number (a decision hastened by the lack of good drying here lately). The skirt felt a bit grannyish given its mid-length and sombre hue, so I teamed it with some cheery cherry red tights that I haven't worn in a long time.

Isabelle and Aidan commented on my clothes, as they always do when I wear any variation to jeans/trackies. They seemed especially interested in the tights.

So, off to Playcentre for drop-off we went!

Before I even made it into Playcentre, I realised why I don't usually wear skirts. As I closed the car door, the edge scraped along my leg, putting a large hole in my red tights.

At Playcentre itself, there was a reaction to my skirt. Some was indirect "You look like you're going out!" Others were more to the point "I don't think I've EVER seen you wear a skirt before!". This was all friendly and fine, but I could feel that hole in my right lower leg.

I went home. I peeled off the tights. I put away the skirt. I looked around my wardrobe and tried on a pair of jeans that were ditched during pregnancy. They fitted perfectly.

No-one commented on my jeans on my return. I noticed Aidan was wearing a pink tutu over his trousers. He was very attached to it, and it remained on for the rest of the day.

I've worn my skirts since, but I miss my cheery red tights. The grey skirt definitely needs jazzing up.

How to get people to read your blog

1. Advertise. Include your blog address on your email signature. Include it in your signature on internet forums. Tell people you have a blog.
2. Make your blog address easy to spell and remember, so people you tell about it can find it easily.
3. Update your blog regularly. People like to see new stuff each time they check in.
4. Don't write a diary of your day to day life. This is not as fascinating to most others as it is to you. Write about ideas. Link your day to day life to the bigger picture.
5. You may wish to become a specialist in a certain area, thus attracting like minded people. Right wing political commentary. Socialist environmentalism. Educational theory. (And so on...).
6. Don't go on and on about your pets, your children, or your health.
7. Use photos.
8. Be a bit controversial - but not over the top. Write about sex. Or about outrageous behaviour. Maybe reveal juicy tidbits from your past or present. Have firm views on current affairs.
9. Don't be weird. Many blogs are weird. Some are deeply disturbing. I think most are just trying to be funny. I really, really hope my supposition is true.
10. Be funny, but don't try too hard (see tip number 9).
11. Try and be literate. Don't use abbreviations unnecessarily. Try and use correct grammar and spelling. People will not read your blog if they don't understand it.
12. While you need to be literate, if you use too many big words you will alienate some of your readers (unless you have a specialty, intellectual-type blog, in which case big words will add to your street-cred).
13. Make most entries short and to the point. Remember, people are reading this on a screen. Some people will stop reading if they have to scroll down.
14. Your page layout should be clean and easy to navigate.
15. Link to other people's blogs. Put comments on their blogs. They may return the favour.

Now I don't have to follow my own advice, because my aim in writing this is not to attract maximum hits. It's true though, I do like people checking in - otherwise I would write a paper diary, or use one of those private-access formats. I am particularly inclined to commit sins number 4 (my daily life) and 6 (my darling children). And I don't link this site to my internet forum (number 1).

Are you there Clare?

I've lost your email address!

Email me at my last name at paradise dot net dot nz!!

Envisaging....

The pictures children have in their heads are different from the pictures adults make in theirs. (Actually, now I think about it, probably us adults all have different pictures going on too...).

Anyway, here's a couple of examples.

We were talking about the solar system, planets etc. Brendon and I joked that Pluto, well, Pluto had been given the chop! Isabelle paused, looked very worried and asked "Were there any people on it?".

Aidan and I were discussing things that were good to throw at Playcentre, and things that were not good. For good, I offered balls and beanbags. Aidan offered (quite seriously) "spades". Not quite what I was envisaging. But then again, as someone else pointed out, he may well have had in mind small plastic spades. Not the large, metallic ones that are most frequently used in the Playcentre sandpit!

Taking casual Fridays to a whole new level.

I thought this was funny. You may want to read her previous post and comments to get the context.

I am two degrees separated from the gorilla.