Cut, stick, glue! My scrapbooking son.

We are currently working its way through one large Pritt Stick a week. It seems that scrapbooking is the activity of the moment.

DorkySon follows me around the house, chanting “Cut, stick, glue! Cut, stick, glue! Cut, stick, glue!” until I finally give in and sit down with him at the table, a tower of magazines in front of us.

I suspect it may be in his genes, as I spent ridiculous amounts of time and money doing the same thing as a teenager. But while I filled my scrapbooks up with pictures of boybands, carefully cut out from Smash Hits, DorkySon’s tastes are a little more highbrow.

So far he has shredded the entire collection of Lonely Planet magazines that were my birthday present last year. We have to hide the Saturday and Sunday supplements until we’ve read them; otherwise they end up in pieces across the living room floor. Last week I even found myself buying a copy of Top Gear magazine, because I knew it’d have enough pictures of cars to keep DorkySon happy for a whole afternoon. The only publications he won’t cut up are his own Peppa Pig and Bob the Builder magazines… funny that. Continue reading

The language explosion: Chips Please Mama

Plate of chips (french fries) with a green plastic fork

“Chips please Mama.”

 “No chips tonight, DorkySon.”

 “Chips please Mama.”

 “No chips tonight DorkySon. Get out of the freezer please.”

 Silence….

 “Oooooooh! DorkySon’s fingers stuck in freezer Mama!”

There is something of a language explosion going on over here. I know that all parents must go through this, but I find it amazing that DorkySon, who a few months ago was unable to join more than two words together, is now able to spout complete sentences, and communicate exactly what he wants to me. Continue reading

Things they don’t tell you about parenting… Part 2

toddler holding assorted coloured crayons

A couple of days ago I posted Part 1 of ‘Things they don’t tell you…’ written when DorkySon was just a few months old. This is Part 2, covering the additional lessons I’ve learned over the last couple of years.

I was foolish enough to envisage that DorkySon child would be ‘part of my life’. That he would have his own room, where all his belongings would stay, and that there would still be parts of the house, and of my life, untouched by him.

Ha! Not so! DorkySon shares everything with me. He stashes his Lego bricks in my pillowcase. He sneezes, coughs and splutters his bodily fluids all over me, just to make sure that whatever cold he has, I catch too. And if he is eating something he doesn’t like, he will expect me to stick my hand out and catch it, when he spits it out.

In return, I am expected to share everything with DorkySon. Nothing is my own anymore. He will refuse his own sandwich but insist on eating half of mine. He will want to try every cleanser, toner and moisturiser I bring in the house, cheerfully oblivious to their price tags. He empties my underwear drawer, rearranges my bookshelves, and when I’ve got visitors he has been known to walk into the room with a handful of Kotex, saying “Dat?”.

So, acknowledging that having a child is all-consuming, life-altering, and very messy, here are ten other important lessons that I’ve learned during my time with DorkySon. Continue reading

‘Kids just think for yourself’

Graffiti in a playground saying Kids Just Think for Yourself

I’ve had enough politics for one day, and I’m feeling inspired by the excellent Scribbling Mum, so I’m going to attempt my first Live In The Now post. The premise is to try and take a monthly snapshot of your life, and capture some of the details that you don’t take the time to record in photograph albums or baby books.

My snapshot is viewed through fairly bleary eyes this month, not just because I was up early checking election results, but also because DorkySon’s sleep has gone to hell in the last few weeks. My reliable 7pm-7am sleeper has suddenly started needing two hours of tucking-in and sips of water before he finally crashes. He has also started middle-of-the-night wake-ups again (mainly to tuck in the toes of all his cuddly animals), and seems to think that the family day should now start at 6am. It’s not good. I don’t function well when my sleep is being disturbed. Continue reading