Monday, February 13, 2012

MAKING MAGIC







Geez kids are good writing fodder but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish mine were a little more, well, vanilla.


Here’s the thing. You think you instil all kinds of ideals in your kids as they are growing up. You try and you do your best to make sure they are polite. That they brush their teeth. You teach them not to pick their bums and eat their snot in front of the general public and then you push them into the big wide world of school and hope to God there is nothing you’ve forgotten to make clear. 


For instance. 




TRADING KISSES FOR A BIT OF AN ICEBLOOCK IS PROBABLY QUITE INGENIOUS, BUT ILL ADVISED.




So Jack has only been at ‘big’ school a week. One frickin week and already the other parents are using their high pitched voices and saying “OOhhhh, so THIS is Jack” Lucy, Amelia, Isobel etc etc hasn’t stopped talking about him”.  Then “You know he’s been getting bites of icypoles in exchange for kisses don’t you?” Um. No. No I didn’t. Because if I did, I WOULD HAVE GIVEN HIM A DOLLAR TO BUY HIS OWN.




So yeah, seems after he was knocked back after just simply ASKING for a bite of an ice block, he thought he might negotiate. And negotiate with the only currency he was sent to this great earth with, his charm. He offered a kiss. She accepted. BINGO, iceblock secured.  


Lucy’s mum was pretty cool about it but suggested that I give him a dollar for the canteen next time. I, blushing, nodded and sat Jack down for a little talk.


Also


IT’S PROBABLY NOT COOL TO PULL YOUR PANTS DOWN IN FRONT OF FOUR GIRLS IN ART CLASS. UNLESS IT’S LIFE DRAWING. AND YOU’RE THE INVITED MODEL.


You know, sometimes I think Jack is about 11 years before his time. It’s like he was born riding a motorbike and rolling his own cigarettes.


So it was Friday, end of the week.  Not only that, it was just about time for the ‘Meet the other Prep Parents/Teacher night’. I rocked up to find Jack helping ‘Suze’ as he called her, set up for the night. There was good beer and Champagne in piccolos on ice – how very civilised!  That’s when I got the nod from Jack’s teacher to follow her. My heart sank.  


“We need to have a chat about Jack’s behaviour when you get a chance”


“Is now a good time?” Me, hoping against hope that it was a completely shit time.


“Oh sure, well it’s not really in class, just something one of the girl’s mums said to me” And that's when she mouthed and simultaneously mimed, “Pulling his pants down” She then said in a too friendly voice “How about I email you hmmm?”. 


And I never did get to taste the Piccolo Champagne.


So today, I get an email outlining a few incidences where Jack decided he might just take his pants down as what I wish was an attempt at being the subject for some  nude life drawing as opposed to what it really was – proudly showing off his doodle.


Yeah, so this is hearsay, no adult actually saw this, but apparently the evidence is pretty damning. And when confronted, he cracked. I asked him simply what he was tyring to do. His response?  “I was just trying to make magic!”  


So tonight I penned a response to an email I never imagined getting. And then we sat down with Jack and had the talk. The stop being a dirty little perve talk. Not in so many words, but we did have to recognise that he does have a little bit of an obsession with girls and kissing.  Which I know, I know, is normal and healthy but yeah, if I had a 5 year old daughter and she was being confronted with that kind of junk (pun intended) at school, I’d be a little freaked out too. 


So, yeah, out of all the things I thought I had prepared my children for, this wasn't one of them. Maybe I’m getting all this in reverse and he’ll be a model teenager. Feel free to laugh at me.


Oh and Happy St Valentine’s Day. Whether you believe in it or not, it doesn't hurt to spread a little love...






Butter. Contrary to everything, it certainly DOES melt in his mouth.


Thursday, February 9, 2012

DR GOOGLE





I do believe there are many of us. I also believe the level of unjustified shitscardeness is at code red levels. I also believe I just made up a word.  I digress.
I am of course talking about those among us who use Google to search for solutions to medical problems and symptoms. Dr Google by any other name.
In the past, I have used the 'good doctor' when I have felt anything out of the ordinary or ‘not quite right’. Within about, oh 2 minutes, I have myself convinced that I have roughly three months to live. 

It’s like when I was a teen, except there was no such thing as Google. I would convince myself I was pregnant even though you know, I hadn’t actually had sex yet. I would hightail it to the nearest QBD and scour the medical section that had a book on Pregnancy and look up ‘symptoms’ Tender breasts? Check, Nausea? YES! Late Period? OMG I am pregnant!!!! Except I wasn’t. Unless Immaculate conception was really 'a thing'. No, I had just used a rudimentary version of Dr Google.

Jack, our 5 year old, used to walk on his tip toes. A lot. Of course we noticed it and told him to ‘get off your tippy toes’ about 1,000 times. His kindy teacher also pointed it out to us and told us ever so sweetly to “get that shit checked out by a doctor”. Sure. But first things first, what did Dr. Google have to say about this condition? Here are some of the possible conditions that came up on the search:

“One cause for toe walking is tight Achilles tendons at the back of the heels. Sometimes this condition can be corrected by putting the child's feet into a brace for a while or, in the more severe cases, surgery may be necessary” Ok, can deal with that.

“Frequent toe walking can signal several different problems, the most serious of which is cerebral palsy” Holy Shit

See what I mean, this is worst case scenario stuff. I took the then 2 year old, to the doctor and she told me to basically go home and he will grow out of it as it’s a habit. He’s now 5, still does it every so often and yep, it’s just a habit.

I myself had cause for concern with a very sore lump in my breast. This started out much less sinister and due to the fact that my mum was dying at the time, and I had zero time to face any more shite news, I ignored it until humanly possible. This of course did not stop me from consulting Dr. Google. In which time I read some very reassuring predictions, “painful lumps are rarely a problem” to some very disturbing ones “These masses have a good chance of malignancy”. So, of course being as difficult as humanly possible I decided I needed this checked during the Christmas/New Year period. The hardest time of year to get any concrete evidence.

Anyway, it was all good. Just a fibroidenoma : The typical case is the presence of a painless, firm, solitary, mobile, slowly growing lump in the breast of a woman of childbearing years. Either way, before I got the pathology results after a very anxious 2 week wait, I had myself contemplating my life, my children’s future and the injustice of it all. And Dr Google didn’t help. In fact it hindered and scared the living shit out of me.

So, can I suggest something? Perhaps, the next time you have an ache in your hip or a throbbing in your temple, go to a real life doctor and see what they have to say. Do not, I repeat, do not, self-diagnose.