Archive for November 2011
Almost wordless Wednesday.
There is nothing quite like an early birthday present, is there?
In our house birthdays kind of start early and the birthday boy or girl (or both, as the case may be) tends to be spoilt a little more.
Generally Dave and I give one combined gift and then each child gives one small gift too.
There are definitely advantages to having a large family.
So on the weekend we decided to give Ivy and Noah their ‘big’ gift.
Ivy: Don’t peek! Noah, I think you’re peeking.
Ivy again: Noah! You’re still peeking – just through a different space. (she had to be peeking too – if she could see that he was).
I think they like them.
Aww, their first i-things (now I can have mine back).
He agreed to abide by the i-thing rules – that is use only when allowed, observe the electrical device curfew and know that it will be confiscated if there is any wrong doing.
Also: no youtube.
He spent the morning dancing to Black – eyed Peas “I’ve got a feeling”
On a side note: some ‘friends’ have expressed their concern about such a gift
and even though I don’t have to justify them to anyone
here are our reasons:
1. We spend alot of time in the car, at appointments, in doctors rooms and in the hospital. It’s a great asset for long days of waiting.
2. They can use it to listen to music, take photos and use it for educational purposes.
3. It was what they asked for
4. We purchased them over a number of weeks of layby and they were on special.
The confession.
When I was in the fourth grade I told a lie.
It wasn’t just a little one.
It was a whopper.
I went to school, after a particularly harsh flogging from my father, bruised badly up and down my legs.
A sweet girl, named Rebekah asked what had happened
and for some unknown reason I lied.
There had been frightening stranger danger sightings around our school
and along the path that I needed to walk to get there and back again
and maybe because I didn’t want anyone to know that my own father had caused those marks
I told her that the stranger did it.
Of course, I thought nothing more of it
until I was called up to the office to see the deputy principal.
I was interrogated several times, I remember, although I can’t recall the answers I gave
but I never did tell him or anyone else the truth.
Counsellors came and teachers to inspect the bruises on my legs
and I was called a silly little girl and a liar to my face.
Rightly so and yet
I held onto that lie for the rest of my schooling
and I was wrong.
I know I was so wrong to tell that lie and I have felt guilty ever since.
I think about that little girl who must have been concerned for me enough to tell a teacher
or her Mum
and how that might have been for her
and how much trouble I caused
and the time I wasted being interviewed by the deputy, when he could have been doing other things.
I think of all of that still.
It sits there like a lump in my throat.
Other days I feel angry and sad that I felt that I needed to lie to protect my father
and in turn my family
but more so, that those teachers all saw those bruises
and did nothing.
They must have known that they had come from somewhere
and if they figured that I was not being honest about the stranger on the bushtrack
then they must have had some idea
because they were clearly not self inflicted.
I ask myself why a lot, when it comes to this story.
I could have been truthful and told them that my father did it.
I don’t know why I didn’t.
Perhaps it’s because I felt they wouldn’t believe me, if I did
or that having your father whip you so hard that you bruise would not have turned any heads in that day and age.
I don’t know.
I do know that it should have been different.
If I observed something like that on a child – as a nurse, it would be mandatory for me to report it to Community Services
and I know that it is like that for teachers too, today.
Things are different now.
Hitting your kids was okay in the 70′s though.
I mean it was okay in adult society.
It was never alright by me.
Things I know about small sausage dogs.
I’ve always had at least one dog in the house.
At the moment we have two -
Linus, the mini foxie, who is old and wise
and who sleeps most of his days away now
and then there is the small (teenage) sausage dog.
Anyone out there who has ever lived with a small sausage dog will agree when I tell you
they are a very interesting breed.
Here are some of the things I know about small sausage dogs.
In particular, Chippy, our small sausage.
I know small sausage dogs think they are human
and should be treated accordingly.
If you try to treat a small sausage dog like an animal -
as in eat from a bowl
or make them sit on the floor
or go outside to pee
I know you will in turn be treated accordingly;
as in ignored completely.
It is only when you come to the realisation that you are in the company of a tiny human packed into the shape of a kransky
that you will get anywhere at all.
However, do not dress them up in clothes.
Small sausage dogs are nudist humans, apparently
and will treat you the disdain that you so deserve if you try.
I know small sausage dogs have diverse taste buds.
They will eat anything from gourmet ice cream
right down to the lowest of lows -
cat poo.
You’d think they would resort to that when they are in dire straights and the only thing left for them to consume is dog food
but no.
It appears small sausage dogs enjoy cat poo
A lot.
What can I say?
Small sausage dogs can be gross.
I know you don’t want to let your sausage dog lick you or anyone else on the face when you know the diet they keep.
Trust me on that.
Other items of food choice include (in no particular order)
carrots
glitter
any form of meat
frozen peas
anything that the pet rabbits consume (because they are vermin as well as human, don’t you know)
popcorn
easter eggs
easter egg foil
everything from Santa’s Christmas Eve plate (including the milk)
mushrooms
Peanut M & Ms
croissants.
Come to think of it, there is not much they won’t eat.
Oh, wait – dog food
and any form of pasta.
Go figure.
Small sausage dogs are moody.
I know that if you go on holidays for a week they will snub you for a week after your return.
They become lonely easily
and are sensitive and sooky if they think you are laughing at them in any way
which is often because sausage dogs are clowns in disguise.
If you don’t give them their required amount of love each day, they will bring out their best attention seeking behaviour
like;
chewing up soft toys
chewing up hard toys
piddling in inappropriate places when they think you are not looking
raiding any bins they can get into
barking at blades of grass that may be swaying in the wind just because they can
stealing underwear from the clean washing pile and chewing holes in them
stealing underwear from the dirty wash basket and chewing holes in them.
Stealing underwear.
Period.
Small sausage dogs do well with a companion
or if that’s not an option (or the companion is a mini foxie who won’t join in with the games)
they will become over attached to soft toy dogs named Custard.
I know that they will do things you couldn’t tell your mother about to said stuffed dogs if given half the chance.
I know you will feel sorry for Custard, the soft toy
almost every day.
Poor Custard.
I know small sausage dogs like to sleep under the covers of your bed, especially at 5 am,
despite trying to break that behaviour very early on in the piece.
I know that if you do not allow them to burrow under said covers, they will yowl at you until you relent.
This is a very effective tool to have, when you are small and sausage like.
It will work.
Very well.
Sausage dogs like to dig.
They can dig, despite their most gorgeous stubby paws, very deep holes.
Be careful because you will fall into one and almost break your ankle, if you are not careful.
They especially like to dig when they are right next to you
and you are hanging out the whites on the washing line.
I know that small sausage dogs hate having their photo taken.
Unless, of course you are trying to photograph something else
then they will photo bomb every chance they get.
I know when they are being mischievous or they are happy, they smile.
I know many people say dogs can’t smile
but small sausage dogs can
especially when they are up to no good.
They have an amazing range of facial expressions that will melt your heart every time
and you will never be able to stay cross with a small sausage dog.
Sausage dogs think they are brave.
They are your protector.
They will bark at thunder
and lawn mowers
and mops.
They will also think they can take on every magpie on the planet.
Yes, they are brave indeed
behind the safety of a window
or door.
I know there is so much more I could tell you about small sausage dogs that I may have to do a second post.
They are loyal friends who will devote themselves to you
so long as you treat them as the royalty they believe themselves to be.
You must give your heart over fully to the sausage in your life
but really, that’s not very hard at all.
playing along with Shae today
Do you RSVP?
When I was little, if you were invited to a party
you wrote a letter back to the person who invited you.
You either accepted the invitation or you apologised that you couldn’t attend
but you thanked them anyway.
What ever happened to that custom?
I sent the invitations out for Ivy and Noah’s birthday party a couple of weeks ago.
It’s a costume party, so I wanted to give them plenty of notice
and it’s also a busy time of year too
but so far only a few people have responded.
The RSVP date isn’t up yet – so it’s all good
but I’m starting to feel nervous
that the party will be a flop.
It’s interesting that all of the people who have responded are the parents to boys.
Some have told me at school, some have phoned me
but at least I know that Noah will be surrounded by his friends.
There has not been one girl yet.
Ivy may have her fairy grotto all to herself
and I’m worried.
I’m sure that is partly why I don’t do birthday parties very often.
It’s the fear of rejection
and the fear of failure.
Numbers are important when you are trying to organise things.
I’m hoping that there will be a lot of last minute RSVPs
but honestly, the art of response seems to be lost on many these days
and I wonder why that is.
It’s not as though we have no form of communication -
I listed my phone number and my email address on the invitation.
People just don’t seem to think it’s important anymore.
I’m interested to know – do you RSVP to parties?
Do you think it is important?
Do you find that people don’t respond and then turn up on the day regardless?