That’s me done I said. Two boys now, done and dusted. Hands full and all that jazz. Tidied small clothes and baby equipment into piles; sent them off to friends, charity shops, second hand sites, refugee camps, a women’s refuge. Gone. The lot of it. But I’m not the only one in this equation. Turns out the other half of this partnership was not done at all at all and did a reasonably satisfactory job of persuading me of same. I find myself pregnant. With child. Bun in the oven. Up the duff. Here’s how it’s been going; for what kind of blogger am I if I do not document such things?
Four. It sounds big doesn’t it? Still a pre-schooler but definitely not a toddler. A big boy when it suits him, my little baby when it doesn’t. He’s articulate and headstrong, with a very strong sense of injustice, and a new found love of blue cutlery only. Incidentally I was trying to phase out the plastic cutlery and dishes when he decided he was suddenly very attached. See; headstrong. And the injustice? Just about everything is unjust, especially everything that his big brother does or says ever.
Let’s get this straight first; I’m not that into sci-fi. I love imagined dystopian futures – Brave New World, 1984 and The Handmaid’s Tale are among my favourite books – but The X-Files never grabbed me, and I don’t think I’ve watched one full episode of any of the many lauded space-based shows. Look, I am so not into them I can’t even be bothered giving you an example…ummm Galatic Trek! Deep Star Space Gate!
So after the end of the latest season of Game of Thrones when I was casting around for opinions on what to watch now, fellow Stream Teamer Mind the Baby recommended Orphan Black to me and I wasn’t sure. But I had heard it was supposed to be really good so I decided to give it a go.
Or, how to kill twenty minutes before bedtime.
First ask your kids if they’ve heard of Pokémon. I mean how would I know, it’s not like I supervise all their screen time. That’s not as bad as it sounds; turns out they have watched it over the years at quiet time in childcare.
Now ask if they want to go catch some Pokémon. Oh wait, well, Pokéballs. I’m not sure; I downloaded the app three days ago and the servers have been down most of that time. I did try to see how it worked one morning on the way to work and stood furtively on the street not really knowing what to do at the Pokéstop. It’s ok, when I got in I asked a colleague who happens to also be the company’s Technical Director, and he set me straight right away. No shame, grown ups, no shame!
Expectations raised way beyond reality, shoes were found and put on in speeds never seen on a school morning. There are two Pokéstops near our house – at the church, and eh…at the Mary statue also in the church grounds. (This is common I hear – it’s like the developers consulted with the Granny’s of Ireland about where they’d like us lured to.)
We set off, the just-turned-four year old chanting “Pikachu! Pikachu!” Oh shit.
They listen to me with my road crossing instructions. I should promise Pikachu all the time. “Mammy! I’ve never been this excited to go to a church before” Me neither dude, me neither.
We get to the gate. The big fella swishes the Pokéstop and is delighted to see our Pokéballs arrive. “My turn my turn my turn” shouts the other one, and luckily it’s a 100 metre dash to where Mary hides more elusive Pokéballs under her skirts or amongst her flowerpots. He swipes. Same thing happens. He bursts into big gulpy tears “I. WAN’. POKÉBALLS.” Ruh-roh. Augmented reality is not reality enough it seems.
I placate him and he clings to my legs all the way home, which luckily isn’t far. The six year old takes some persuading that now is not the time to explore everything on the local map. He’s still happy, and wants to look for Pokémon all day tomorrow.
I go to take the clothes in from the line when we get home. The four year old reappears by my side, delirious with happiness. “Two blue Pokéballs!”
Whatever gets us through kid, whatever gets us through. Now; to petition my husband to add it to his phone…
I read a lovely post over on Awfully Chipper the other day where Maud outlined the things in her life that said “her” to her and to her children in the same way that particular things will always remind her of her own mother. And lo and behold, she made it a linky. I put my thinking cap on, and thought what in my life says me?
I must consult my children and see what they think. If they waited around long enough for an explanation of what I’m looking for they’d probably say,
- 16 half drunk bottles of water strewn around the house;
- pyjama bottoms at 730pm;
- the way I eat chocolate behind a cupboard door in the kitchen.
But I didn’t ask them. So here’s what I think says me.
First up, my bike; inanimate love of my life. This is my current one, it’s fancy and electric and when you’re carrying a child that’s a third of your own weight it’s dead handy. If it wasn’t this bike it would be another, this isn’t the first and it won’t be the last but this is what currently gets me to and from work rain, hail or shine.
I thought at some point I would graduate into heels. They would magically become comfortable and something I wore if not daily then very often. Lets just say, that hasn’t happened.
This says plenty; I love geometric patterns and industrial design (it’s a concrete planter). Yellow and grey are my favourite colour combinations and although I love greenery, the best kind of plants are ones that look after themselves. This is pretty representative of the things that I have dotted around the house between bits of lego and under drawings of minecraft.
This card has sat in my wallet since my just-graduated-from-college days. I lived near the library in Rathmines and joined for the first time since childhood. It brings me just as much joy now as it did when I walked out with armfuls of Babysitters Club and Roll Of Thunder Hear My Cry. I may buy the odd physical book, but more likely I’ll impulse buy on my Kindle while waiting patiently for the books I request online to appear in a ‘We have your book’ email from my local library branch. You don’t even need to make time to browse, though that would be a welcome luxury. My kids have their own cards now too, but this isn’t about them…
My balanced diet. I would happily eat either of these. I’m as likely to have quinoa for my dinner as pizza. I’m all for equal opportunities for nuts and doughnuts. I mean, I try and tip the scales in favour of the healthy options, but eating food I like is the new strong is the new skinny.
After all, I cycle plenty on that bike up above, and some of those runners are even used for running.