Kid-speak

My brother called cucumber "bocum" when he was two. He has just turned 20 and the whole family still calls it bocum!

This post is a celebration of kid-speak. Those precious words, you know, the ones your child makes up, or muddles up, that bring such a freshness to language that your family repeats them for years? I just love them!

In the haze of the last few years intensity, I do not remember many neologisms from our elder two children, I'm sure I stashed them away on a scrap of paper at the bottom of their file in the filing cabinet. The only ones I remember are Timmy's ham-pine car-vester, and then pine cone harvester for combine harvester.

And Merrily's wonderful phrase which she still uses: "I'm true" - which means I'm telling the truth. But I just love that turn of phrase - I'm true!

But at three Ash is in full flow and has so many sweet ones that I want to share and remember here.

For about a year she called an elephant a sur-lap. That took a lot of figuring out - but we all call them that now!

Dogglers are what she calls goggles - my heart just melts every time she asks me to put her dogglers on - it's like proper BFG-speak.

Now, where be your dogglers, little girl? 

And then yesterday she asked Patrick to take her badger off. She meant her badge of course, but my mind was conjuring up images of cute black and white furry creatures!

In our household female gentalia is called a yoni - but the way she says it sounds like own-y - which is rather lovely - my own-y, as in my very own special part of me. And friend's son calls his genetalia peanuts - a great combination of penis and nuts!

And yesterday she was telling me that they were playing with a power suit at play school, it took me a while to realise that she meant parachute!

And then of courses there's Paptin Hook.  Who sounds much less scary than the real pirate captain!


Please do share your family's kid-speak below! I can't wait to hear their funny, creative uses of language!

The Scum of the Universe

I take a break from my usual sweetness and light to go on an all out attack on the scum of the universe.

Spammers.

Numerous times a day I have to delete their gobbledegook, badly spelled, ungrammatical insults from my inbox.

Take the most recent one which came through when I was at lunch. Let me share the delights of it:

I belіve everything published made a lot of sense. (of course it did, I rock!)
Ηoωever, think аbоut thіѕ, what if you аddeԁ a little content? (um, dick wad, you added this comment to a post which is 800 words long with multiple images)
Ι mean, I dοn't wish to tell you how to run your website, (then fuck off and stop annoying me, as my father would say) but suppose you added something that makes people desire more? I mean "Craft-Tea Christmas Celebrations" is kinda plain. (no, thicko, it's actually a clever play on words)
Υοu might add a video or a рic or tωo to grab readerѕ intеrested about
evеrythіng've got to say. (oh thank you, for gracing me with your wisdom, oh spammer, I'd never considered that) Just my opinion, it would make your website a little bit more interesting.(You know my opinion? Get yourself a job and stop annoying us all.)

Also see my web page www.i'm a tosser.com

Fucking, wanking, irritating cyber scum, with no purpose except wasting everybody's time.

Not only do they block up my spam filters, cos their spam is so crap that it can't get past them. I have to read their shite. They seem incapable of writing. Man spammer grammar bugs me.They're scum because not only are they spamming, but they always do it in a negative way "have you seen what people are saying about you?", "your content is poor".

And even though you know it's probably spam, you just have to check, in case some poor unfortunate real human reader has fallen foul of the spam filters and needs fishing out. And even though you know its spam, you pick up the negative energy.

I make no exceptions. They are scum. Wasting peoples' time, money and emotional energy, for little gain.

• There are the spammers who leave random links on your blog. 
• Spammers that send you shite about Viagra and African inheritances to your email address. 
• Spammers that hack into your email account and send all your friends desperate stories and try to get them to send money, this has happened to three friends in the past couple of months. 
• Spammers who try to get you to place their guest post plus dubious links up on your site for the princely sum of $10. 
• There are the spammers who hack into email servers and hijack them to send shite from your business address to their own mailing lists, as happened to my poor husband this week, causing him days of stress and costing my father's company his week's wages trying to rectify it.

Sorry, I've been too hasty, I'm sure there's some great, sexy James Bond types out there - and if they're reading - my bank details are 1493042466 Sort Code: Kiss My Ass.

Umm, I think I might be premenstrual!!!

To all those who say "it doesn't get any easier"

To all those who say "it doesn't get any easier, just different."

I say bollocks. And so does Mr Dreaming Aloud. As do many of our friends.

We say - you forget just how hard little children were.

Or perhaps you truly were lucky enough to have little angels. Or perhaps you just had one. Or perhaps you had lots and lots of child care. Or probably you really were the perfect parent. You never slumped on the sofa halfway through a day wondering how you were going to make it through the rest of it.

But perhaps I'm being a littler harsh, perhaps your teenagers breastfed through the night, waking you 8-10-12 times a night, every night,  for 6 years.

Perhaps they lay on the ground in the middle of a shopping mall or car park and kicked and screamed and would not move.

You're right, all ten year olds I know give you stretchmarks all over your body and play havock with your hormones as you gestate, deliver and feed them. All eight year olds are so attached that you lose your body and freedom to their every whim for about two and a half years.

Sure teenage vegetarian phases rival three children under seven each of whom will not eat what the other does, want it cut up in a certain way, and are incapable of feeding themselves so you are morally obliged to provide food otherwise social services will call - even though you know they will not eat it.

If you had a baby or two who slept then bully for you. But we didn't. We don't. And nothing and no one can begin to understand the levels of sleep deprivation under which I and so many other parents live for YEARS.

So the next time you tell parents of very young children that it doesn't get any easier even when they're grown up, just stop.  Please, please look into that parent's bleary eyes, make them a cup of tea, and tell them they're doing a wonderful job and that it will get easier... Even if you're lying through your teeth!

Operation Christmas Spirit

Operation Christmas spirit: this is my last ditch attempt to feel festive, after feeling decidedly meh! after the pottery Christmas party yesterday.

So up with kiddies at 8.30, despite a lousy night, despite it being my writing day. And straight into the kitchen. I unleashed my inner domestic goddess, who has been away these past weeks, perhaps even months, whilst creative rainbow mama has been here writing books. And so in two hours we made:

• clementine jelly
• cranberry sauce
• cranberry, pecan, dark choc and orange cookies
• gingerbread cookies
• mulled apple juice

The house smelt of Christmas. And then breakfast of cookies and mulled juice tasted like Christmas. So I think we can say mission accomplished! Might even head off to see the big red man at the local safari park this afternoon!

After sharing last year's Santa post on my Facebook page (if you're not a friend, make that your Xmas pressie to me...) a good friend emailed me this...

REMEMBER THIS AT CHRISTMAS TIME

According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December.

Female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to EVERY historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl.

We should've known... ONLY women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit allaround the world in one night and not get lost.  A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL!   

Oh it made me chuckle - thank you Leigh . As did the comment that another reader left at the bottom of my Santa post about collecting kangaroo poo from the Australian bush to act as reindeer poo! Hahaha!

So all it leaves me to say is have a very Merry Christmas, dearest readers. We are set to hit 50,000 page views before Christmas day which is very exciting. Thank you for coming back again and again and sharing the journey. It is all the more rich with you here.

I would love a festive hello from all my readers below. If you've never said hi, take a deep breath and de-lurk yourself (thank you SO much Lucy for your lovely de-lurking email this morning- it made me smile!).

Tell me what you REALLY want this Christmas.

Me? I REALLY want to hold my own book in my hands, and have a "placing it on my own bookshelf ceremony" - which is why I have been working SO hard on it!

That and a night's sleep. But I've been asking for that for 7 years!

Merry Christmas one and all, and to all a good night ('s sleep!)

Children are for life... not just for Christmas

"True dat!" As my brother would say.

Though it feels like a life sentence at times.

And then they are so sweet. So vulnerable. So funny. And my heart melts. And then again...

Ta-da!

That is our baby's most recent "word". She drops something on the floor - "ta-da!" She puts cereal in her cup of juice "ta-da!"

So mama bear and dada bear were making the baby bears' beds. Mama bear and dada bear start to get snuggly under the blankets, if you get my meaning. Baby bear comes in and sees mama bear lying down - this means one thing - milk! (Weaning is on go slow right now!!)

Baby bear lifts blanket to access mama bear's mammaries. Surprise! Shock! There's a dada bear under the blanket in competition for the fine assets! "Ta-da!" she says!

Ta-da indeed!

The Tree of Knowledge- Another installment in my son's quirky religious education

So on Sunday we got the "rainbow book" out, on request of my Bible loving three-year-old (those of you of a religious persuasion will be reassured that we have my illustrated Good News version on our bookshelf - it has a picture of a rainbow on the front and she is fascinated by it -the book that is, not just the picture).

They started to look at the pictures. And asked who the two naked people were. Those are Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, I say. And start to run over the bones of the story.

And I get to the apple bit. But Mama, was there only one apple? Is that why God didn't want them to take it? Perhaps he wasn't so good at the old sharing concept, my razor-sharp five-year-old suggested...

I stopped and thought. He looked at the picture again. Look Mama, there were loads of apples. So why was he cross?

Another good point, well made my son!

For other posts on Timmy's shaky religious non-doctrination see:
Jesus in a spaceship
God in the belly

The Irish namaste!

There is a custom here in rural Ireland. A quaint one, which speaks of a time when everyone knew everyone else. It is the culchie* salute - the greeting of country dwellers. Every driver greets every other driver, cyclist, pedestrian by raising their hand as they drive by. It is a custom of which I am very proud. It means we acknowledge each other, watch our speed, offer lifts to those who need them, flag down a friend for a brief chat or exchange of pleasantries...

It made me think of the namaste bow - the Buddha in me greets the Buddha in you but Cork-stylie...-the culchie in me greets the culchie in you!


*In Irish-English culchie is a term sometimes used to describe a person from rural Ireland. In Dublin, it is often used to describe someone from without the bounds of the 'M50' motorway. It usually has a pejorative meaning, but is also reclaimed by some proud of their rural origin, and may be used by either side in banter between town and country people. Generally the term is more humorous than abusive in rural areas, as opposed to the more offensive term "muck-savage". (Wikipedia)

Say what? "For a Dirty Toilet User..."

A continuation of the Wordless Wednesday theme: it contains lots of words and is not published on a Wednesday!

I was looking for an appropriate image to accompany a new feature on love letters. And came across this. The opposite of a love letter! A (forgive me!) shite letter!

We were living in a gaijin house (foreigner's guest house) in Kyoto, Japan., run by a very eccentric manager (a Japanese cat lady). We got in late after a night of too much plum wine and karaoke and were greeted by this sign on our phone message board.  We just had to photograph it. I had forgotten all about it...till this morning!

Jesus in a spaceship

My son started at the local school this September. 95% of Irish schools are Catholic. Irish schools have a required 30 minutes daily religious instruction.

However, we are not religious.

How will this work we wonder...

And so today, a conversation started in our house.

"Who lives there?" I asked "Jesus?" I can't remember exactly where this place was we were talking about, but I was being playful.

Doctor's orders

Laydeez and gentlemen, may I present you with......
Drum roll pleeze...........
The words of my new hero, DR Tom Smith...
"Don't diet too much: being slightly overweight is good for you."
Yes you heard it right.We is allowed to be a little chubby!