I'm rather broken at the moment.
And I don't use the term lightly
Apparently, however, it's supposed to get better.
When the almighty hospital people said that having a central component of my reproductive equipment removed was going to be major surgery, they weren't kidding. And two weeks into the recovery I'm starting to think I seriously underestimated the term 'major'!
Now don't get me wrong here...I sat on my ass like a good girl in that hospital (like I had a choice hooked up to a catheter and a morphine drip!)...and when I got home...I didn't move much more. But fluffing around in ones abdominal area it seems has all sorts of repercussions that are decidedly unpleasant...and the effects of taking 19 pain-killers a day ain't exactly a waltz in the park either.
Suffice to say, I haven't quite reached the 'grateful for the marvels of modern medicine' stage just yet.
I have however developed a whole new respect for how clever my body can be.
Case in point: sneezing. My body would not let me sneeze...well until yesterday. If I tried to sneeze previous to this. it would break it into two much smaller sneezes...very odd...and wholly unsatisfying; but when the alternative means possibly undoing all the nice surgeon's handy-work, I guess I can dispense with the sneezegasms.
And stretching was another one...it wasn't until this morning when I woke up that I realized I hadn't had the urge to stretch and yawn for two weeks!
The body is a funny thing....clever, but funny.
On the whole, however, I can't bitch (well I CAN...but I'll be good and not). Although I cannot drive or lift over 3kgs for another four weeks....I can read books, listen to music, watch movies, be a passenger, text message, talk on the phone, do crafty things, pat a cat, do a jigsaw puzzle, and last but not least... play on Facebook!
Not that I do that much of course...*cough*
(Oh crap, that's right....It hurts to cough as well! >.<)
*sigh*
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Monday, 25 June 2012
Sunday, 24 June 2012
The Eye Of The Lion...wait, what?
Well haven't I been a quiet little Tigress!
In my defence though, I have also been been a busy little Tigress (surgeries and such), and regrettably have the type of personal life that makes Day Of Our Lives seem like a perfectly plausible chain of events.
But in the greater scheme of things I do believe it's all settling down. The racket of all the doors closing and new ones opening has been a little deafening but nothing a good hearing aid won't fix, and I am ready to embrace new things, especially if he's cute...
but I digress...
It is important to remember, I feel, that when one comes into a busy spell in ones life one cannot forget one's stripy little responsibilities. I have offspring as some of you know but I also (at time of onset of chaos) had a few thousand followers on my Facebook page, who, I knew, were starting to wonder where the hell I had got to.
It was obvious I needed back up....but The Musings Of A Tigress is just that! The Musings of Me....how can someone else help with that?? To put a co-admin on the page would invariably mean letting someone else represent, at least to a certain degree, what was in my head (a scary proposition if ever there was one O.O)
And it's not like I could just add any old random off the street....I had to think this through....much research had to be done! Pedigrees needed to be analysed! Police records needed to be checked!
There was much flailing of paws and gnashing of fangs let me tell you!!
It was quite the stressful situation.
Or perhaps not.
Frequently in life, I have discovered, karma will simply bring you what you need if you are paying enough attention to notice it, And this was the case here. Enter random 'like' whom I ended up having a number of interesting conversations with....about everything from Denis Leary to stars to lions to 'special someones'. And thus it all rather fell into place.
Ok, hold up.....I confess, I stalked the crap out of his thousands of pictures for content and response (and his response to responses) and THEN it all rather fell into place. It all of a sudden became obvious, there could be only one female entity on the page...the other had to be a contrast, but compatible. A counterpoint if you like. Tigress was my baby...I wanted someone who would respect what I had built and nurture it as I would but still stand apart as a unique identity. And he also had to 'fit' somehow....Thus Lion Eyes came into Tigressland.
And he's done a pretty damn good job too I must say; representing my Leonine half! The figures are way up...the people are happy and while anyone who knows me knows I am not the most feminine of creatures, it is still rather nice having a masculine presence round the place. The fur on the couch is ridiculous but he cooks bless him! Would be nicer if he wasn't completely on the other side of the bloody planet so I could TASTE IT! But he cooks :)
It's going well.
I'm a happy little Tigress :)
In my defence though, I have also been been a busy little Tigress (surgeries and such), and regrettably have the type of personal life that makes Day Of Our Lives seem like a perfectly plausible chain of events.
But in the greater scheme of things I do believe it's all settling down. The racket of all the doors closing and new ones opening has been a little deafening but nothing a good hearing aid won't fix, and I am ready to embrace new things, especially if he's cute...
but I digress...
It is important to remember, I feel, that when one comes into a busy spell in ones life one cannot forget one's stripy little responsibilities. I have offspring as some of you know but I also (at time of onset of chaos) had a few thousand followers on my Facebook page, who, I knew, were starting to wonder where the hell I had got to.
It was obvious I needed back up....but The Musings Of A Tigress is just that! The Musings of Me....how can someone else help with that?? To put a co-admin on the page would invariably mean letting someone else represent, at least to a certain degree, what was in my head (a scary proposition if ever there was one O.O)
And it's not like I could just add any old random off the street....I had to think this through....much research had to be done! Pedigrees needed to be analysed! Police records needed to be checked!
There was much flailing of paws and gnashing of fangs let me tell you!!
It was quite the stressful situation.
Or perhaps not.
Frequently in life, I have discovered, karma will simply bring you what you need if you are paying enough attention to notice it, And this was the case here. Enter random 'like' whom I ended up having a number of interesting conversations with....about everything from Denis Leary to stars to lions to 'special someones'. And thus it all rather fell into place.
Ok, hold up.....I confess, I stalked the crap out of his thousands of pictures for content and response (and his response to responses) and THEN it all rather fell into place. It all of a sudden became obvious, there could be only one female entity on the page...the other had to be a contrast, but compatible. A counterpoint if you like. Tigress was my baby...I wanted someone who would respect what I had built and nurture it as I would but still stand apart as a unique identity. And he also had to 'fit' somehow....Thus Lion Eyes came into Tigressland.
And he's done a pretty damn good job too I must say; representing my Leonine half! The figures are way up...the people are happy and while anyone who knows me knows I am not the most feminine of creatures, it is still rather nice having a masculine presence round the place. The fur on the couch is ridiculous but he cooks bless him! Would be nicer if he wasn't completely on the other side of the bloody planet so I could TASTE IT! But he cooks :)
It's going well.
I'm a happy little Tigress :)
Thursday, 12 April 2012
It's puzzling really...
I have been known to get a little obsessive over things. Once started, it can be extremely difficult to distract me from an activity. My Facebook page is one known addiction, cleaning a particular item or tidying someone else's house are others (Aspy much?!...And I'm so much better than I was!)...puzzle books...a good novel also qualify.
As does doing jigsaw puzzles.
Jigsaw puzzles are one of the world's little enigmas aren't they. They surely must have come about by accident when some demented little git decided to chop up a picture of his Mrs of something. Then some other anal-retentive little twazzock got his thrills from sticking it all back together again.
Ok, I'm full of it...according to http://www.mgcpuzzles.com/mgcpuzzles/puzzle_history/ they started in the 1760's with maps getting chopped up as educational toys...adult ones kicked in around 1908. Apparently they created quite the stir....obsession even...I can relate.
Now I don't use the term obsession lightly here; I have been known to knock out a 1000 piece scenic jigsaw puzzle in under two days (including meals and sleeping) and did the first 550pc "World's Most Difficult Jigsaw Puzzle" (The 'Buffalo Games" one with buffalo in various sporting poses on an all blue background) in under 8 hours, including lunch,....when I was 11.
As a result of the latter I have always snorted heartily at the "World's Most Difficult" part. Just coz they stuck the same picture on the other side turned 90 degrees doesn't really add much challenge...you just do all the easy bits twice then once you find which bit fits the body of your puzzle, you turn the other one over. It's not rocket science. To be honest, those edgeless ones with the five extra pieces put up more of a struggle.
The ones of all dice or jelly beans or some other such mundane object tend to pose a bit more entertainment, however...but I doubt they would qualify as "world's most difficult" either.
I think I know which one has that covered.
Back when I was a pup I saw something on TV about the "Purple Dread": a 5000 piece puzzle that was entirely purple. Now I ask you...what miserable, mongrel-gutted swine would think up something like that!
I have no idea....but I think I found his/her kid....
http://www.pizmogames.com/games/load.php?g=hardestjigsaw
I'll see you three years next Thursday.
As does doing jigsaw puzzles.
Jigsaw puzzles are one of the world's little enigmas aren't they. They surely must have come about by accident when some demented little git decided to chop up a picture of his Mrs of something. Then some other anal-retentive little twazzock got his thrills from sticking it all back together again.
Ok, I'm full of it...according to http://www.mgcpuzzles.com/mgcpuzzles/puzzle_history/ they started in the 1760's with maps getting chopped up as educational toys...adult ones kicked in around 1908. Apparently they created quite the stir....obsession even...I can relate.
Now I don't use the term obsession lightly here; I have been known to knock out a 1000 piece scenic jigsaw puzzle in under two days (including meals and sleeping) and did the first 550pc "World's Most Difficult Jigsaw Puzzle" (The 'Buffalo Games" one with buffalo in various sporting poses on an all blue background) in under 8 hours, including lunch,....when I was 11.
As a result of the latter I have always snorted heartily at the "World's Most Difficult" part. Just coz they stuck the same picture on the other side turned 90 degrees doesn't really add much challenge...you just do all the easy bits twice then once you find which bit fits the body of your puzzle, you turn the other one over. It's not rocket science. To be honest, those edgeless ones with the five extra pieces put up more of a struggle.
The ones of all dice or jelly beans or some other such mundane object tend to pose a bit more entertainment, however...but I doubt they would qualify as "world's most difficult" either.
I think I know which one has that covered.
Back when I was a pup I saw something on TV about the "Purple Dread": a 5000 piece puzzle that was entirely purple. Now I ask you...what miserable, mongrel-gutted swine would think up something like that!
I have no idea....but I think I found his/her kid....
http://www.pizmogames.com/games/load.php?g=hardestjigsaw
I'll see you three years next Thursday.
Monday, 9 April 2012
Tales from Who(re)ville...
A few days ago, "The Musings Of A Tigress" Facebook page hit 3000 likes.
Now I'm not gonna deny it...I'm jolly happy about this, and it thrills me no end that people appear to be coming toward my somewhat random collection of thoughts and humour versus running away from it. And it's always heartening to think that you bring a smile, a chuckle, or maybe even a laugh...to another's world. I never cease to be honoured by all the wonderful comments and shares I receive in a given day.
But I do feel I must watch myself; one doesn't want to be seen as getting caught up in one's own celebrity now does one. And rightly so....I'm a page owner on Facebook, not Kate bloody Middleton!
It's hard though, not to focus on such things when one is crawling up the posterior of a certain 'like' total (for example 3000). Now my rational side (which I like to think is quite large) says just relax, it's no big deal, really, it'll happen in its own time. It reminds me that a page admin should always demonstrate gratitude for the followers they have, and serve first and foremost to entertain them with their output...not build up symbols of popularity akin to a boy-band's album sales.
But all this rationality seems powerless to stop me from occasionally turning into an absolute 'likes' WHORE!
It's the number you see! I mean I was fine at about 2800ish...just cruisin' along...nothing urgent...and then it ticked over to 2900...
2900...
As in 100 off 3000....nice big fat round 3000
And this is where the tics start to turn up. I make a coffee, occupy the offspring and develop a 'focused' look previously only elicited from hammering at the final level of Zuma.
And it's also about now that the admins of other pages start to get the hint that the Tigress has donned her fishnets.We pages can also like each other you see and have our own newsfeeds upon which my posting, hinting and downright grovelling starts to turn up en masse. And I'm always awed at this point by how tolerant and helpful these folk are during my times of....lunatic intensity. I'm not sure if they help me out because they really love my stuff or simply because I look ridiculous in a mini skirt and they are trying to clean up the neighbourhood.
Either way it works very well, and once I skip over the relevant milestone, I miraculously become once again the sedate(ish) stripy individual that you all know and love.
And to be honest, no one is more relieved about this than me...I mean it's quite intense and exhausting all that promoting and posting and gifting and such.
And seriously, stilettos are a bitch to walk in!
Now I'm not gonna deny it...I'm jolly happy about this, and it thrills me no end that people appear to be coming toward my somewhat random collection of thoughts and humour versus running away from it. And it's always heartening to think that you bring a smile, a chuckle, or maybe even a laugh...to another's world. I never cease to be honoured by all the wonderful comments and shares I receive in a given day.
But I do feel I must watch myself; one doesn't want to be seen as getting caught up in one's own celebrity now does one. And rightly so....I'm a page owner on Facebook, not Kate bloody Middleton!
It's hard though, not to focus on such things when one is crawling up the posterior of a certain 'like' total (for example 3000). Now my rational side (which I like to think is quite large) says just relax, it's no big deal, really, it'll happen in its own time. It reminds me that a page admin should always demonstrate gratitude for the followers they have, and serve first and foremost to entertain them with their output...not build up symbols of popularity akin to a boy-band's album sales.
But all this rationality seems powerless to stop me from occasionally turning into an absolute 'likes' WHORE!
It's the number you see! I mean I was fine at about 2800ish...just cruisin' along...nothing urgent...and then it ticked over to 2900...
2900...
As in 100 off 3000....nice big fat round 3000
And this is where the tics start to turn up. I make a coffee, occupy the offspring and develop a 'focused' look previously only elicited from hammering at the final level of Zuma.
And it's also about now that the admins of other pages start to get the hint that the Tigress has donned her fishnets.We pages can also like each other you see and have our own newsfeeds upon which my posting, hinting and downright grovelling starts to turn up en masse. And I'm always awed at this point by how tolerant and helpful these folk are during my times of....lunatic intensity. I'm not sure if they help me out because they really love my stuff or simply because I look ridiculous in a mini skirt and they are trying to clean up the neighbourhood.
Either way it works very well, and once I skip over the relevant milestone, I miraculously become once again the sedate(ish) stripy individual that you all know and love.
And to be honest, no one is more relieved about this than me...I mean it's quite intense and exhausting all that promoting and posting and gifting and such.
And seriously, stilettos are a bitch to walk in!
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Bite me....
I am generally not one to dwell on my medical situations as there is no real point, but occasionally it humours me to share the latest antics of my body. We converse frequently, my body and I, and sometimes harsh words are spoken....but this time I laughed...out loud.
Anyone who has followed my blog will be aware of my spiffy little run-in with breast cancer (I'm still winning by the way...it can f**k off and leave my stripy ass - well tit - alone!) which forces me to deal with the delights of Tamoxifen (like being in a menopause of sorts, complete with hot flashes, chills, cramping extremities and.....assertiveness..).
But I also have a few other things on the go including being HLA B27+, which courts such fun as iritis (inflamed eyes - requiring dilation of the pupil so you look like a malfunctioning terminator...in public), dry eyes, and ankylosing spondilitis (a form of arthritis which 'flares' regularly and could culminate in some of my bones 'setting' like brittle concrete - though how mine will develop is yet to be known, it may get no worse than it is so that's a good thing :))
Add this to being gluten and dairy intolerant and caffeine and yeast sensitive though and things get a little tiresome. Oh, and I mustn't forget my misbehaving internal girly bits that have now qualified me for a hysterectomy in the next 3-6 months (Yippee!).
Despite all this fun and shenanigans however, I go to the gym and do pretty much what other people do as I can. And I frequently remind myself that many many people deal with stuff a lot worse than my little random collection of conditions. But that doesn't mean I feel inclined to add to the list!
Picture this...
Two weeks ago, I'm hanging out at my mate's place helping with some furniture rearranging and such when I start to feel a little..peculiar....like I'm exercising hard core but standing still. I mention this to her (she just happens to be a nurse) and go to lie down for 20 minutes. I still feel rather 'racy' and short of breath so without sitting up I pathetically wave my hand in the air and ask my friend to take my pulse...it's over 100 (my normal resting pulse rate - as taken at the gym 2 days earlier - is in the 60's where it should be, and my blood pressure was also fine at 121/68).
Well this was a tad disconcerting...
As I had had a very stressful weekend however, I just put it down to that and my body slowly settled down over the next couple of days until I was back to normal. I thought nothing more of it until about a week later; I was at the gym with another friend when she said: "Good God what did you do to your leg?!!" This was a very good question for being the observant type that I am, I had managed to completely miss a (very impressive I must say) bruise the size of your average tomato on the back of my calf and another smaller one further up.
WTF? Who misses shit like that?
Anyway, the larger bruise also had a clear spot in the middle and it occurred to me that some small arachnid had possibly tried to execute my demise by stuffing its fangs into my tender person. The little sod.
So I thought I better mosey along to my local pharmacy and run my brilliant deduction by someone who was qualified enough to ascertain whether it was brilliant or not.
As it turned out, it was a little more brilliant than I planned.
"So what you're saying is..."I eyed the pharmacist warily "is that had that spider (or whatever it was) chewed on me a bit higher up...say near my neck or head...things may not have gone so well?"
"Exactly...the swelling could well have blocked your airway and and you could have died."
This is the part where I laughed...and as this was not my regular pharmacist so she knew nothing of all my other conditions and medication, the bemused look on her face only fed my mirth.
"I would definitely suggest you see your doctor and consider carrying an EpiPen."
An EpiPen...(unsubsidised in New Zealand so costing between $120 to $190 - with a shelf life of only 12-15 months) ...for my newly discovered, potentially fatal, allergy to an unknown biting thing.
I have pondered...mused even...about this over the last few days, and have decided I only have one thing to say at this point:
"Body?....COULD YA KNOCK IT OFF NOW!!!"
Anyone who has followed my blog will be aware of my spiffy little run-in with breast cancer (I'm still winning by the way...it can f**k off and leave my stripy ass - well tit - alone!) which forces me to deal with the delights of Tamoxifen (like being in a menopause of sorts, complete with hot flashes, chills, cramping extremities and.....assertiveness..).
But I also have a few other things on the go including being HLA B27+, which courts such fun as iritis (inflamed eyes - requiring dilation of the pupil so you look like a malfunctioning terminator...in public), dry eyes, and ankylosing spondilitis (a form of arthritis which 'flares' regularly and could culminate in some of my bones 'setting' like brittle concrete - though how mine will develop is yet to be known, it may get no worse than it is so that's a good thing :))
Add this to being gluten and dairy intolerant and caffeine and yeast sensitive though and things get a little tiresome. Oh, and I mustn't forget my misbehaving internal girly bits that have now qualified me for a hysterectomy in the next 3-6 months (Yippee!).
Despite all this fun and shenanigans however, I go to the gym and do pretty much what other people do as I can. And I frequently remind myself that many many people deal with stuff a lot worse than my little random collection of conditions. But that doesn't mean I feel inclined to add to the list!
Picture this...
Two weeks ago, I'm hanging out at my mate's place helping with some furniture rearranging and such when I start to feel a little..peculiar....like I'm exercising hard core but standing still. I mention this to her (she just happens to be a nurse) and go to lie down for 20 minutes. I still feel rather 'racy' and short of breath so without sitting up I pathetically wave my hand in the air and ask my friend to take my pulse...it's over 100 (my normal resting pulse rate - as taken at the gym 2 days earlier - is in the 60's where it should be, and my blood pressure was also fine at 121/68).
Well this was a tad disconcerting...
As I had had a very stressful weekend however, I just put it down to that and my body slowly settled down over the next couple of days until I was back to normal. I thought nothing more of it until about a week later; I was at the gym with another friend when she said: "Good God what did you do to your leg?!!" This was a very good question for being the observant type that I am, I had managed to completely miss a (very impressive I must say) bruise the size of your average tomato on the back of my calf and another smaller one further up.
WTF? Who misses shit like that?
Anyway, the larger bruise also had a clear spot in the middle and it occurred to me that some small arachnid had possibly tried to execute my demise by stuffing its fangs into my tender person. The little sod.
So I thought I better mosey along to my local pharmacy and run my brilliant deduction by someone who was qualified enough to ascertain whether it was brilliant or not.
As it turned out, it was a little more brilliant than I planned.
"So what you're saying is..."I eyed the pharmacist warily "is that had that spider (or whatever it was) chewed on me a bit higher up...say near my neck or head...things may not have gone so well?"
"Exactly...the swelling could well have blocked your airway and and you could have died."
This is the part where I laughed...and as this was not my regular pharmacist so she knew nothing of all my other conditions and medication, the bemused look on her face only fed my mirth.
"I would definitely suggest you see your doctor and consider carrying an EpiPen."
An EpiPen...(unsubsidised in New Zealand so costing between $120 to $190 - with a shelf life of only 12-15 months) ...for my newly discovered, potentially fatal, allergy to an unknown biting thing.
I have pondered...mused even...about this over the last few days, and have decided I only have one thing to say at this point:
"Body?....COULD YA KNOCK IT OFF NOW!!!"
Thursday, 29 March 2012
All hail the almighty toothpick...
I'm eating pizza right now (a piece of useless information for you) and, for a moment, entertaining the thought that perhaps Scott was just a hard core Fraggle Rock fan in the day....you know, an industrious wee youngster whose first aspiration in life wasn't to be a rock-star or policeman, but simply to be a Doozer and create epic construction.
But this kinda takes it into a whole new universe dunnit?...And turns the tables something wicked when you think about it...I mean what self-respecting Doozer wouldn't want to grow up to be Scott Weaver?!
Now I will confess though, I have had desires to do something radical and artistic like this in my time, but I was never a completer....I was an epic starter of things....but wasn't quite so epic at finishing them. While this has improved in my later life, I do have many unfinished projects laying about the place that bear testimony to the fact I frequently have the attention span of a half-baked goldfish.
So what kept this boy going?? Abandoning the quandary of what inserted the idea into his consciousness in the first place, one is hard pressed not to be just as baffled by the question: "Why didn't he give up halfway and hurl it in the bin?" It must have been tempting at some point surely. You can just about guarantee that there would have been days when perhaps the cat had playfully knocked the whole shebang to the carpet and he felt like giving up toothpick sculpture in favour of, say, taxidermy? But no! He resisted! He didn't say: "Sod this for a game of soldiers" and use it for kindling....he kept at it....adding toothpick after toothpick until his vision was complete.
It's astounding really and all I can say is jolly good for him. From someone who is artistically challenged by basic origami....his achievement is nothing short or incredible. And as I'm finishing my pizza I cannot help but be mindful of the fact that Mr Weaver has elevated such a humble object to almost mythic status. This in mind however, I would still be sorely tempted to snap a wee piece of said sculpture would I be seated next to it right now as a bit of pizza crust has nestled itself most uncomfortably between two molars and yep, you guessed it...I've run out of bloody toothpicks!!
Monday, 12 March 2012
A boat for Lil Blondie
My child is not what you would call particularly 'girlie'.
Though I'm not into labels all that much - so shy away from the term 'tomboy' - I have no problem recognising that her interests transcend the unfortunate 'gender norms' still reinforced by the gender-specific garbage marketing rife on today's children's television.
You see Lil Blondie has a slight obsession: at the ripe old age of 5 3/4: she wants to build a boat. And not just any boat...a frickin' great ship what shoots things, carries passengers and even has a helipad - musn't forget the helipad.
And she wants to do it all on her 6th birthday in June.
Now believe me, I am secretly delighted that although my little girl happily wears pink and loves kittens (she can choose whatever she wishes), she is also Ben 10's number one fan and is not afraid of the concept of blowing the crap out of something.
But none of this helps me build a boat...
Sorry, I mean ship.
But I know I have to at least try and delay her desires a little as I don't really have a Titanic's worth of boat-building materials laying around at my disposal. But how?! It's not like she's even remotely interested in the ballet classes her older sister wants her to do!
My first attempt involved going for the model kind...you know with pop out cardboard bits and such. I saw one in the Avon catalogue of all places and wondered if it just might suffice...at least until she went onto something else. When it arrived, away for Christmas it went. Come Christmas morning, the slim unwrapped gift drew a bemused stare. "It's a boat" I said, smiling. The stare shifted from bemused to 'are you shittin' me, coz that's one damn skinny boat!?'
Supposedly, according to the packet, a 5-year-old could have put this thing together....pfft, well I'd love to meet the little twerp! It would have to be one of those smart-ass prodigy kids that was completing the Rubic's Cube while still in triangular trousers and tossing up between between fixing the family car or building a new doghouse just for recreation by the age of four, because I'm thirty-God-damned-seven and I was swearing incredulously after five minutes! It had no less than 5 sheets of pop out bits, and most of them were not what I would call large.
Eventually, however, with the Blonde one checking in on me periodically, the 'HMS Morfolk' was born. Complete with guns, tower thingie and yes, even a helipad.
This should do her I thought and proudly presented her with my creation. I pointed out all the various bits and pieces and patted her on the head saying: "Yay, now you have a boat!"
"Oh that's a very nice boat, Mum, but mine's gonna be much bigger than that!"
Crap...this could be trickier than I thought.
Time for Plan B...
"So what sort of job do think you could do to work on a boat?" I asked
Through her furrowed brow I could almost hear the cogs whirring as she entertained the options.
"I could be a pirate!" :D
Right...
After discussing the logistics and legalities of such a career choice and the possible unfortunate outcomes to both self and others we decided against that one and instead analysed some more acceptable avenues such as going into the Navy, becoming a diver to explore old ship-wreaks or conduct wildlife research, and working on a cruise liner.
After further thought, though, her face lit up: "What about the helicopter, maybe I could fly in the helicopter?!"
We had discussed helicopters and their occupants before. This was working better than I thought!
"You certainly can sweetheart! Flying a helicopter would be a cool job!"
"Oh I don't want to fly it" she corrected me; "I want to ride in the back of it like the crewman does."
"Well that would be great too!" I encouraged
"Hmmm" she murmured half to herself: "You know what I need now though?"
"Well I think, just from a Mummy's perspective, you need to study hard at school and make sure you grow up really strong and healthy."
"Yes, yes' I know all that!" she dismissed impatiently, "but what I really need....
She pointed her finger firmly in the air and put on her 'earnest face'.
...is practice!!
I didn't like where this conversation was heading.
"And lots of it!"
You know what's coming next
"We need to build a helicopter, Mum!" She said matter-of-factly.
"Oh do we now!" I spluttered. Though I should have seen it coming...this was not panning out well for Team Mummy at all. :"Oh so I suppose you want to build THAT on your birthday now?"
"No silly, we're building the boat on that day remember"
Huh?!?!
"Well what else am I gonna park my helicopter on?!
Where the hell is that ballet brochure....
Though I'm not into labels all that much - so shy away from the term 'tomboy' - I have no problem recognising that her interests transcend the unfortunate 'gender norms' still reinforced by the gender-specific garbage marketing rife on today's children's television.
You see Lil Blondie has a slight obsession: at the ripe old age of 5 3/4: she wants to build a boat. And not just any boat...a frickin' great ship what shoots things, carries passengers and even has a helipad - musn't forget the helipad.
And she wants to do it all on her 6th birthday in June.
Now believe me, I am secretly delighted that although my little girl happily wears pink and loves kittens (she can choose whatever she wishes), she is also Ben 10's number one fan and is not afraid of the concept of blowing the crap out of something.
But none of this helps me build a boat...
Sorry, I mean ship.
But I know I have to at least try and delay her desires a little as I don't really have a Titanic's worth of boat-building materials laying around at my disposal. But how?! It's not like she's even remotely interested in the ballet classes her older sister wants her to do!
My first attempt involved going for the model kind...you know with pop out cardboard bits and such. I saw one in the Avon catalogue of all places and wondered if it just might suffice...at least until she went onto something else. When it arrived, away for Christmas it went. Come Christmas morning, the slim unwrapped gift drew a bemused stare. "It's a boat" I said, smiling. The stare shifted from bemused to 'are you shittin' me, coz that's one damn skinny boat!?'
Supposedly, according to the packet, a 5-year-old could have put this thing together....pfft, well I'd love to meet the little twerp! It would have to be one of those smart-ass prodigy kids that was completing the Rubic's Cube while still in triangular trousers and tossing up between between fixing the family car or building a new doghouse just for recreation by the age of four, because I'm thirty-God-damned-seven and I was swearing incredulously after five minutes! It had no less than 5 sheets of pop out bits, and most of them were not what I would call large.
Eventually, however, with the Blonde one checking in on me periodically, the 'HMS Morfolk' was born. Complete with guns, tower thingie and yes, even a helipad.
This should do her I thought and proudly presented her with my creation. I pointed out all the various bits and pieces and patted her on the head saying: "Yay, now you have a boat!"
"Oh that's a very nice boat, Mum, but mine's gonna be much bigger than that!"
Crap...this could be trickier than I thought.
Time for Plan B...
"So what sort of job do think you could do to work on a boat?" I asked
Through her furrowed brow I could almost hear the cogs whirring as she entertained the options.
"I could be a pirate!" :D
Right...
After discussing the logistics and legalities of such a career choice and the possible unfortunate outcomes to both self and others we decided against that one and instead analysed some more acceptable avenues such as going into the Navy, becoming a diver to explore old ship-wreaks or conduct wildlife research, and working on a cruise liner.
After further thought, though, her face lit up: "What about the helicopter, maybe I could fly in the helicopter?!"
We had discussed helicopters and their occupants before. This was working better than I thought!
"You certainly can sweetheart! Flying a helicopter would be a cool job!"
"Oh I don't want to fly it" she corrected me; "I want to ride in the back of it like the crewman does."
"Well that would be great too!" I encouraged
"Hmmm" she murmured half to herself: "You know what I need now though?"
"Well I think, just from a Mummy's perspective, you need to study hard at school and make sure you grow up really strong and healthy."
"Yes, yes' I know all that!" she dismissed impatiently, "but what I really need....
She pointed her finger firmly in the air and put on her 'earnest face'.
...is practice!!
I didn't like where this conversation was heading.
"And lots of it!"
You know what's coming next
"We need to build a helicopter, Mum!" She said matter-of-factly.
"Oh do we now!" I spluttered. Though I should have seen it coming...this was not panning out well for Team Mummy at all. :"Oh so I suppose you want to build THAT on your birthday now?"
"No silly, we're building the boat on that day remember"
Huh?!?!
"Well what else am I gonna park my helicopter on?!
Where the hell is that ballet brochure....
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