I'd like to be...

I think maybe those Steiner people are on to something...

I curse the makers of annoying children's television. And I curse myself for letting my children watch it. GAH!

So, if you haven't already heard, we're all set to be living underwater soon. In an Octopod. Just round the corner from the Ocotonauts (who may well be coming round for sleepovers sometimes).

Boy keeps warning us that today is our last day in the real world. I'm starting to feel a bit like a member of one of those doomsday cults where the prophet gets the dates wrong. I don't actually want to live underwater - not that Boy gives a toss what I want - but I'd like this over with one way or another.

If I hear a sentence beginning "When we live underwater..." one more time....

Anyway, Boy says he's hard at work inventing things for when we're underwater. He's going to provide all the oxygen for people, but you have to bring your own food and other stuff. Just a head's up.

Mostly he's just hard at work talking about it. We endured three hours solid the other day. Thankfully he doesn't care too much whether we're really listening or not.

He pulled a swifty on Daddy the other day.

Daddy, I need to tell you something.
Oh.
But it's not about living underwater.
Oh! Ok.
So... when we're living underwater....

And poor Girl just keeps wanting to get her bathers on because she thinks we're going swimming. No, I say, we're not going to the pool. Oh... swimming in da ocean?

sigh.


Is this where it all started....? I have no idea why anyone would want to live in an Octopus' Garden, shade or no shade, unless perhaps you happened to be an octopus.

It's just biology

Girl found an old picture of Mummy, Daddy and Boy, aged roughly the same as she is now.

Girl: Girl!
Mummy: No, that's Boy.
Boy: No Girl, you weren't even born yet then.
Mummy: But you do look a bit like Girl there.
Boy: Why?
Daddy: Because you're about the same age as she is now, and because you're family and sometimes family look similar.
Boy: That's because of DNA!

'Tis the season

Nope, no, I'm writing a note to Senta to take you off the nice list. So you'll get no presents.
No presents from anyone. I'm writing a note - to everyone. Even strangers and people that live in other countries.
....

A few days ago Boy told me that he'd heard about a nice list that meant you got presents from "Senta".

But that's not real. It's just a story.
Oh. Ok.*
But.... sometimes we can make fictional things come to life!

He'd been trying, unsuccessfully, for some time to make Myro the Microlite come out of the book and visit his house. Even yelling MYRO THE MICROLITE at the top of his lungs didn't work. Plans for the runway in our backyard are currently on hold.

He wrote a letter to Senta at school. He told him he should be on the nice list as he helped with vacuuming the other day. He wants a robot.

He's been telling everyone that he's getting a bike for Christmas. Luckily we've bought him one.



*We were trying to avoid Father Christmas, oh well

Weird science

Sometimes Boy is rough with Girl, and she dobs him in.

"Boy pushyoo" "Boy bite yoo" "Boy 'mack yoo" etc

The other day I heard a thud and Girl started crying. From around the corner Boy appeared, arms wide in that universal gesture for "I didn't do it":

"It was gravity!"

He had to learn about gravity, because he needed to know why the Earth revolved around the sun.

"You know, it seems like the Earth is the centre of the solar system, but it really isn't, actually!"

Which then brings us to the rotation of the Earth.

But first.... yesterday Boy was getting violent and wouldn't stop. In desperation I pulled out my one punishment card: No books at bedtime. He didn't believe me, but was devastated when bedtime rolled on and he realised he'd have to go to bed with no stories.

So, this morning he's fiddling with something of mine, which I've asked him not to touch. He looks at me slyly:

"But, if I do this [twiddles something around] it'll make the world spin around faster and faster and then I'll have had my stories in bed tonight before I've done this"

Yes. Time travel.

The truth about cats and dogs

Boy and Girl had been conspiring on some piece of mischief or other, when Boy approached Daddy:

Boy: I was just telling Girl that if your mummy and daddy both die, if you train your cat or dog really, really, really, reeaaally well, they can look after you instead.

Daddy: Don't you think that being taken care of by your grandma or granddad might be better?

[silence]

Worried that Boy was close to tears - perhaps grappling with thoughts of mortality - Daddy pulled him close and gave him a cuddle.

Daddy: Are you worried about mummy and daddy not being here one day?

Boy: No. I'm upset because your ruined the story I was telling Girl!

Blowing in the wind

Do you know, when I'm in pre-primary - which is not that far away, after the school holidays - I and Daddy are going to make a chinook. A REAL chinook. 

Oh, ok.

Yes, and we're going to go away on holidays in it. And you'll have to put some mooky in some bottles for Girl. Because we'll be going for months and months.

Oh, are you and Girl going without us?

No, the whole family will go together, but there's no bed so you can't lie down during the day.

Ok. Where will we sleep?

Oh, well.. there are sleeping quarters. But they're potential sleeping quarters, so there's a sign during the day saying you can't sleep here. Not until night time.

Right.

And do you know what the roof will be made out of?

Nope.

Wood! And we'll use plastic and metal and stuff we find in the back yard.

Ok.

And guess how we'll do the washing while we're on holiday? Because there's no washing machine.

I don't know.

In the swimming pool! And we'll open a little hatch in the floor and squeeze the washing out so the water goes out the bottom of the chinook. And then we'll hang them out to dry in the air as we're flying along.

Ok.

And now we have to look on the internet to find out how to make a real, working chinook from backyard detritus. 

Show me the money

We recently decided Boy was ready for a little more responsibility around the home and some financial remuneration in return.

He's had some funny ideas about work and money in the past. One day, quite some time ago, he decided to unroll toilet paper all over the house. I berated him for wasting money - now daddy would have to work even more to buy more toilet paper. Oh my folly! If it wasn't bad enough to be guilt-tripping a two year old, he took me literally and started telling anyone who'd listen that daddy worked in order to buy toilet paper.

Then, Boy and I went along to a riverside festival where daddy was helping on a one-hole golf game. After that, he would tell everyone that daddy worked with golf balls at a park.

More recently, we managed to explain to him that actually daddy mostly worked behind a desk with a computer. So, having explained the concept of pocket money - you work and we pay you, like daddy works to earn money - he declared: Yes, that's a great idea mummy! You can set me up on the computer with some work to do and then I can earn some money.

We explained his work would be doing helpful things around the house. And it's been good - he's been generally a lot more helpful!

We decided on $3 per week, but $1 would be 'taxed' for a savings account. He is very keen to find out what he could spend $2 on. $2 doesn't buy much these days, of course. It is the price of a round trip on the miniature railway out near his grandparents' place, which is a good reference point for him. After handing over his first lot of earnings, I asked him whether he wanted to spend it now or wait till next week, when - presuming he was similarly helpful - he would have more. How much more? Two dollars, plus two dollars equals....? FOUR!

Oh! I'll wait till I have FOUR dollars!

We scoped out K-Mart, calculating how many weeks he'd have to save to buy particular toys. He really wanted the big lego set, but when I explained that would mean waiting an entire year, he thought perhaps he'd choose a smaller thing.

And every time he NEEDS something I say: Yes, maybe you can buy some with your pocket money. And today, he's made his first purchase. I bet you'll never guess....

Yep, a packet of plastic hooks for hanging stuff on your wall. They will be used to finish the construction of his cubby house.