It is no big surprise to me that the Noodle has been difficult of late; the twos have a certain reputation after all. He is advancing rapidly in some areas and not so much in others and this may be a cause of his frustration and erratic behaviour.
He can, for instance, name a dozen dinosaurs and tell you if they are carnivores or vegetarians (or naughty / not naughty - the intricacies of evolution being, for him, reduced to a question of binary morality). Yet our black dog and white dog are nomenclatutorily interchangeable.
He can recite picture books word for word, even if he doesn't know what the words mean; work a CD player; sort of ride a tricycle and be generally charming. Yet he continually kicks his little brother in the head, throws things, hits his parents and refuses to obey reasonable instructions.
Again not surprising to anyone I suppose, even those who aren't parents are aware that children exist (long gone as those halcyon days of seen and not heard are) and a fair bit of literature and today tonight time is given over to them.
What has hit me recently though, as Knickers and I have been dealing with his behaviour and a teething Pudden, is that there really, really is no end to it. Noodle is not - in three days, three weeks or three years - going to suddenly have an epiphany, 'oh, right, he's my little brother, well then I'll love and cherish him always and we'll never fight again'. No. He and Puddenare going to grow into more and more complex individuals that no parenting skills will transform into good little Stepford children.
So Noodle is balanced between infancy and boyhood, Pudden between baby and infant and both their parents between coping and the madhouse.

It is still a joyous time and I revel in each new development and discovery. Other parents say it gets easier once they're toilet trained or at school or left home, but I'm beginning to think each stage is just as challenging as the preceding one. Maybe we as parents just get better at managing that challenge?

TheyPod IRun

A la Kath I have been oft pounding the treadmill of late. So rather than actually write something, I'm going to tell you what I have been listening to:

Walk Away - Dropkick Murphys
That's Not My Name - The Ting Tings
Debaser - Pixies
Tundra Rap - from The Mighty Boosh
Farewell Rocketship - Children Collide
Fruit Machine - The Ting Tings
I'm the Hitcher - also from The Mighty Boosh
Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis
Shipping Up To Boston - Dropkick Murphys
Jungle Drum - Emiliana Torrini
Polka - Yves Klein Blue
Casino - Philadelphia Grand Jury
Stop the Rock - Apollo 440 (I don't care - this is a great running song)
Know Your Product - The Saints
Orgasmatron - Motorhead
Dead Cities - The Exploited

Quasi folky punk seems to feature quite heavily.

Also, I ran 12k in 50:26 yesterday. Which was nice.

New School

I am soon to start my final prac. Six weeks in a year 6/7 class, and I've been in a few times this week to get to know the students and teacher.

Funny thing for someone who wants to be a teacher, but I still have this fear of kids, that they are all self-centred little beasts who will rup me apart if given half a chance. It really isn't the case. Every school I've worked at I've found them bright, keen to learn and - generally - pleasant.

That is not to say that they can't be terribly cruel to each other, and it is heartbreaking as an adult to witness the social exclusion of some and to know that there is nothing you can really do to stop it. I'm not saying I'd not interevene in a situation where someone was being bullied, or that they bring it on themselves, just that kids have their own society, one of the only things that the adult world can't dictate to them, and we are powerless to recast the order of it.

First off I still have to graduate, which will be tricky enough, but not I fear, as tricky as getting a job. The idea that teaching positions are falling from the trees being a bit of a furphy. But all that done I am really looking forward to being a professional, to having my own class to get to know and work with over a year and be able to fill their heads with trivia that everyone else (in my family)just places straight in the Useless Information file.

Schooling Noodle

Now that Pudden is getting on a bit - sitting up, grabbing things, cutting teeth and starting to have opinions about stuff - the Noodle is starting to get a wee bit jealous and has taken to body slamming Pudden on a semi regular basis.

Knickers and I have had long discussions on the relative merits of lashing Noodle to the Hill's Hoist for a night or simply slamming him back ourselves as effective measures of behaviour management, but would hate to have to dob each other in as we are now both mandated notifiers.

Instead we are forced to use the less effective tools of reason and time out:

Noodle: SLAM!

Pudden: WAH!

Myninjacockle: Did you just knock Pudden over?

N: I want to have a swing.

M: Look, I know you knocked your brother over, I saw you.

N: Please Daddy.

M: That was very naughty.

N: NO, NOT NAUGHTY.

M: No, you're not a naughty boy, but that was a naughty thing to do. ('Cause the literature says you address the behaviour, not the child. Stupid literature)

P: WAH!

N: NO, NOT NAUGHTY.

P: WAH, WAH for Christ's sake I could have a brain hemorrhage would someone please pay me some bloody attention WAH!

M: (picking up P) Now you have to go to time out and think about what you've done.

N: Don't want to go to time out.

M: Well you shouldn't have knocked Pudden over then should have you. Now you say sorry.

N: (sweetly)Sorry Pudden.

M: Now sit on the time out step.

N: NO, DON'T WANT TO.

M: Get on the step by the time I count three. This is your last chance, ONE...TWO...

(N takes off, M places P on ground and begins pursuit, brief struggle ensues.)

M: (dragging screaming N back to laundry and attempting to deposit him on the step)SIT ON THE BLOODY STEP.

N: (making like ironing board) DON'T WANT TIME OUT.

M: Fine, lie there then (attempts to close laundry door, N leaps up and grabs door)

M: (attempting to regain tone of reason)Now we don't play with doors do we?

N: DON'T WANT TIME OUT.

M: (forgets stupid fucking literature and pushes N off door with foot, closes door.)Now you think about being nice to your little brother.

N: (sounds like pack a of rabid pitbulls destroying everything in laundry) AARRGGHH!

M: (picks up P, makes cup of tea, pitbulls eventually leave, opens laundry door) Now I want you to look at me.

N: (not looking)I want a biscuit please.

M: No, look at me and say 'I won't knock Pudden over again Daddy'.

N: (still not looking) I want swing please Daddy.

M: (Broken) Fine, we'll play on the swing.

Launch

The book launch has been a long time coming, and kind of like Christmas when I was a kid, my body can only sustain continually heightened levels of excitement for only so long before my adrenal glands give out. That and the major assignments I had due last week actually made for one tired and stressed out little camper by the time I rose to take the mike and give my first ever public reading.

Oh brother was it fun though. Yes I could handle superstardom, but have probably picked the wrong line of work.

Mike Rann was initially, possibly, going to be the guest of honour and he quickly palmed it off to Chloe Fox; who with her recent parliamentary promotion decided she had better things to do and in the end Vini Ciccarello, member for Norwood, drew the short straw.

I'll paraphrase her speech here:

'Well I don't actually like poetry and I only got back from a late lunch this afternoon and found that uppity Fox bitch had palmed this off to me so I haven't had time to read it - but I'm sure it's all very nice blah blah blah. Vote Rann!'

Still we had a great crowd and my co-authors and I had an absolute ball enjoying our shared fifteen minutes of fame. I've had a few reports back that people who also don't read poetry have read some of mine and enjoyed them and that is good enough for me.

And, as my friend Leila said, 'I can't believe you got to say "cunt" in front of all these people and get clapped for it.'

Doing Anything Friday?

Why not come to the launch of my (okay then, and some other people's) book?


Friday, March 13, 2009

6:00pm - 8:00pm

South Australian Writer's Centre

Atrium 2nd floor Old Malcolm Reid Building

181 East Rundle St Adelaide

**Entry through Cafe Brunelli if the main door isn't open - which it might not be**

How to Avoid Lying

Don't get me wrong, the lie is the great oil for the wheels of civilisation. Nothing annoys me more than a neanderthal clumping about saying 'I just tell it like it is.'
Well done moron, you are proud of your inability to use any higher brain function to filter your thoughts. Just run them straight from the spinal column to the tongue:
'My sister is hot'
'You skinheads sure are funny'
'I farted'
Way to go boyo.

The trouble with the lie is, however; you can get caught, tangled web, first dig two graves, peacock know thyself, etc...

What I try to develop instead is a cunning repertoire of misdirections such that when Knickers arrives home and asks me - as I stand at the sink pretending to wash dishes having leapt from the couch when I heard the car pull up - 'Have you done the (insert name of pointless menial task here)...?'

I can reply:

Yes, lots of times(just not today)
My word is my bond
What do you think?
I said I would do it didn't I
Why do you ask?
Ask me no questions I'll tell you no lies
Wow you're looking hot, let's get you out of those wet things.
You won't believe what happened
Come with me if you want to live

The only trouble is that none of them work, after all these years she sees through me like gladwrap.

So what I'm offering is a trade, my misdirections for yours, a fresh start for all.
Any suggestions?