If Paris does something really cute, think very hard before laughing.
Very, VERY hard...
Meals are now a several-washcloth proposition. That being said, she has fallen in love with everything - if you want to see a child not so enamoured of what is offered, check out Max at Tamsyn's.
Sigh - the way I start far too many blog posts this year. And last.
I am afraid it isn't going to get better any time soon.
My average day:
Wake early. Potty. Feed. Clean. Vacuum. Contemplate the day. First nap. Read emails and open blog window. First nap ends too soon. Feed. Clean. Washing. List. Feed. Clean. Second nap. Work. Second nap ends too soon. Feed. Clean. Fold. Cook. Bathe. Feed. Clean. Get baby to bed. Get older child to bed. Tidy up. Contemplate romantic evening with V. Go to bed.
Some days are different. Some days I go grocery shopping - or into the garden. Some days I go to work and V has a few of those cycles. Some days I don't get to contemplate.
I am so glad I only do this baby lark once every decade because otherwise, I would fall down.
But then every day I get love and smiles and it really is all worth while. She plays, she learns - and to see her face light up when she sees Eddie - or 'Salina - is truly delightful. She is still beautiful and has the best big sister in the world. A big sister who is at my big sister's for the week.
So here is something to make all of us smile - excuse the singing.
I have a bee in my bonnet - and I suddenly remembered that I have a blog, and therefore I can spread my bee-bonnety thing across the world. Ah, the beauty of modern communications!
Anyhow, of late there is a new show on Network Seven over here regarding some masked man exposing the secrets of magic to the unwashed. I know. Shock!! Horror!! What will our magicians do?
Personally, I haven't yet watched the show. I am sure I will - I am the mother of a 10 year old girl who BEGGED for it to be taped for that future video watching occasion because it is very important that she watch it. Apparently.
But I have learned enough about the content - and no, its not because I am magic and can look at the outside of a video and unlock its secrets, but because Network Seven have plugged the show on EVERY SINGLE SHOW they have any creative control over.
In the mornings, we currently watch Breakfast Television, and because Carl Stefanovic gets right up my left nostril and because digital television has been the crushing disappointment that it is and because I refuse to allow children programming on until all hoops have been jumped through and because I don't speak Turkish or Greek or Russian or whatever language the SBS news of that hour is I am forced to endure the pleasure with Mel and Kochy on Sunrise.
As a result of the enlightenment that Sunrise offers, I know that it is SHOCKING the magic world that one of their own is dishing the dirt - they even went to the extent of getting someone from the magic world to say just how SHOCKED they were, and spilled a few sour grapes on how it must have been a failed magician who peed in the pool because there is a code.
If I had missed the opportunity of learning this from Sunrise, its okay because they have a subsequent program called The Morning Show that I occasionally fail to change the channel on or even turn off because the remote is too far away. The good news is, there is lots of information available on The Morning Show.
As a result of the enlightenment that The Morning Show offers, I know that it is SHOCKING the magic world that one of their own is dishing the dirt - they even went to the extent of getting someone from the magic world to say just how SHOCKED they were, and spilled a few sour grapes on how it must have been a failed magician who peed in the pool because there is a code.
The best news of all is that if, for some reason (like, I don't know, having a life) you miss all morning television, don't fret - you could tune in to their "current affairs" programming, Today Tonight.
As a result of the enlightenment that Today Tonight offers, I know that it is SHOCKING the magic world that one of their own is dishing the dirt - they even went to the extent of getting someone from the magic world to say just how SHOCKED they were, and spilled a few sour grapes on how it must have been a failed magician who peed in the pool because there is a code.
It is such a pity that I don't watch their soap, Home & Away, because I would love to know how they would work it into the storyline.
From all of this enlightenment, I have learned that when the magician puts the cloth over the lovely assistant, waves his wand and says his hocus pocus, she doesn't really disappear. I know. I too am shocked. Rips away all your suspended belief systems, doesn't it?
No indeed, while the magician is doing the "waves his wand and says his hocus pocus" bit, the lovely assistant opens the trapdoor, climbs into the secret compartment, contorts herself into impossible angles and closes the trapdoor - all the while doing it really, really quietly and without touching the cloth to give anything away.
Do you know what I think? I think magicians are not so stupid as to think that their audience is so stupid as to see these snippets of enlightenment and never go to another magic show. The beauty of a good magician is to get the audience gobsmacked wondering how it is done - it is a very rare person over the age of 10 who hasn't figured that there are indeed tricks.
I think magicians are worried, however. After this, everyone is going to be looking at the assistant and thinking how awesome now.
And do you know what else? I am so jaded that I realise that Network Seven probably aren't the only Network in the world to air this drivel and push it like little pills on their unsuspecting audience.
On that note, here is something magic from another Network Seven show...
(And yes, the credit should really go to Selina, shouldn't it? Great name, by the way...)
Thea, a twitter acquaintance, put up a blog post recently about a wedding she attended, which brought to mind a wedding adventure I lived through once...
Many moons (a lifetime) ago I was a child-free career girl in Sydney town. Amongst friends and acquaintances, my flatmate Aniqa (an occasional commenter here) and I knew many people formerly of a small African nation.
Through coincidence, there was a month where we happened to be invited to celebrations for several of these folk - and while they all offered cultural diversity and small group intriges, there was one that has stood out from the blur of weddings attended in my memory banks (and no doubt, those of everyone who attended).
It was an early wedding - we had to rise at the crack of dawn and be at Lady Macquarie's Chair - where the bride and groom were to be spliced - for an 8am service, followed by a breakfast overlooking the harbour. Ahhh - sounds divine, doesn't it?
We arrived, bleary-eyed but in our Saturday morning finest, with about 1/4 of an hour to spare. There were the usual gaggle of women - Anglo and African - laying out the tables for the breakfast, there was one lost-looking marriage celebrant - and there was us.
The minutes ticked down, and as the time passed the marriage celebrant was becoming more and more lost-looking. Kick-off time was set for 8 - and nary a named member of the party to be found...
With seconds to spare, two suited men, formerly of Sierra Leone, arrived. As the celebrant was booked out all day, she set them to fill out the paperwork required for the day while we all waited for the bride.
African time was a term I learned during my years in Sydney - it means it will eventually happen, just not to any timetable. The bride was not just marrying a man from Africa, she was well and truly embracing the concept. Five past eight came - and went. Ten past. Quarter past. Half past.
Each rotation of the second hand saw the marriage celebrant get more and more agitated. African time might be something to be contemplated in the melange of multiculturalism, it wasn't working for a woman who had 6 couples to join all over Sydney town that sunny Saturday. She had another couple lined up for 9.30 - and with travel time, she had to leave by 9 - and she couldn't marry a couple when there was half a couple lacking.
Ten minutes to the celebrant's leaving (and 50 minutes after the scheduled kick-off), a car arrived at a leisurely pace, and out from it hopped two bridesmaids, a groomsman, the father of the bride - and the woman of the moment herself, done up in full costume.
It seems the Aussie father of the bride had taken his chauffeur job quite seriously. So much so, he had booked the car in for a service. On the day before the wedding. With some bloke he knew down the road. Obviously the whole African time concept was embraced by the bloke down the road as well, because it wasn't ready for collection until well after they should have shoved off.
The celebrant explained that she couldn't actually perform a wedding in the 10 minutes left, and so a deal was brokered that she could jump off the boat (that was the venue for her 9.30 wedding) at Circular Quay and splice them at the other end of the Royal Botanic Gardens at 11am - and when she said 11am, she meant 11am!
This caused a new problem, as the best man was due at work at 9.30 and would not be able to attend the new time - and the paperwork that had been filled had his name attached... I have no idea how they negotiated that, because we (and the rest of the guests) migrated to have a Wedding Breakfast BEFORE the wedding.
Fortified (and if I may add, slightly tipsy from morning champagne), we were gathered to walk around the harbour to the new venue by 10.15. By half past, and well less than halfway to where we had to be, we were a rather well-dressed jogging group. We were within sight (and our glow more perspiration than inebriation) when we saw the boat arrive to deliver the celebrant. With much haste, a quiet (and quite pretty) corner was found and finally the wedding took place.
Epilogue - 6 years later when I was living in Melbourne, I bumped into the groom - sans the bride... It seemed that a rocky start doesn't always = a smooth marriage... So what is the most interesting wedding you have attended?
Her list of things on offer is growing - and we are yet to meet a gag response to anything. Of course, 'Salina didn't actually know she could refuse anything until she was a toddler, so I am adopting the same tactics with Paris.
She is not yet fully vocal, and so this is the closest she can get to foot in mouth at the moment.
Which is just as well - because genetically, she is programmed to have it provervially hovering.
In fact, I just had to save myself from a rather embarassing "blog foot in mouth" moment by illustrating my point. There are a few things we aren't going to really offer her for a while.
In fact, we are still scientifically working out when she will (ever) be able to have TTs. We gave 'Salina one when she was 7 that resulted in a 4 hour comedown - although that was compounded with a few other factors (including the fact they were the "pink" flavoured TTs). Currently reserved for weekend activities with plenty of daylight and space to get rid of the after-effects in the under 12s (and still not at alls to the under 2s, much to her dismay).
Mother, lover, poet, wife, part-time procrastinater, daughter, sister, auntie, cook, cleaner (ha ha ha), programmer, writer... Feminist Pegger. Aspiring to excel at all, but enjoying the training life is throwing my way!
To contact me, email "jeanieinparadise at yahoo dot com" - without the quotes or spaces of course!
