Archive for Lego
Product Experience: The Trash Pack – absolute garbage that’s absolutely awesome
Posted by: | CommentsA couple of months back, I was invited to attend a Toy Fair at an exhibition centre in Melbourne, courtesy of Moose Enterprise, who are responsible for such things as Angry Birds, Talking Tom, Annoying Orange and various other plush toys, AquaSand, Sea Monkies (I always wanted some of these as a kid! And last week!), Bakugan, AquaDoodle, Smubbles and … sooooo much more.
Anyhoo, after experiencing a guided tour of their stand (impressive) I was sent on my merry way with a bag containing an assortment of their products.
The children, all too aware that I’d been invited to a Toy Fair and hated me because I wouldn’t let them take the day off school to accompany me, and I farewelled them at the school gate with a “You weren’t invited, so ner!”, harassed me from the moment they returned home from school, until I handed over the goods.
I let them choose one item each from the bag.
Godzilla chose The Trash Pack, much to my amazement and disgust.
More shit to lie around the house and to be told to pick up, repeatedly, in a very loud voice, I had thought at the time.
What transpired has left me astounded, yet delighted at the same time.
He immediately opened the pack, and disappeared into his room and played. For hours!
Over the next few days he proceeded to nag me about getting some more. As he had some pocket money owing, I buckled. At this point, I was still a bit “hmmm, not sure about this” as they are, quite literally garbage. They are small, cheap and are “collectable”, which basically means there are a shit load of them for you to buy.
I was dubious about their longevity and I am vehemently against buying useless crap that will lie around and annoy me.
We returned home, his new packs under his arm, and proceeded to play … again for hours!
Let me sum up a few things before I proceed, things that have made me happy:
- he got off his iPod and played with stuff
- he created stories, themes, scenes and all kinds of imaginative play stuff. And things.
- he played with his younger brother, whom had intercepted the Trash Pack party with this Thomas the Tank Engine trains and they had a great little game together
- he played with his older brother, and they created a great story involving The Trash Pack newsreaders, a Zeppelin and a tragedy that befell the town of Trashpackia
- he made a series of videos, telling this story and various others, using his extremely vivid imagination .. and not just one of him dancing naked to Sexy & I know it, either, but stories involving The Trash Pack.
To put this into context, this stuff doesn’t happen very often off the iPod. You may get bouts of it, with his stuffed toys, or various other toy-like paraphernalia, but it rarely, if ever, lasts days, let alone weeks as The Trash Packs have been doing.
It hasn’t been all rosy. He had a near meltdown when Chippie took a liking to Moo Cow Disease and ran off with it.
Monkey Boy has, at times, attempted to control the situation and stories, and it has resulted in skull-bashing repercussions.
Three Trashies have gone missing. It has been devastating.
There are fucking Trashies scattered all around his room at times. Thankfully, they are nowhere near as painful to stand on as LEGO bricks are. Phew.
He is learning responsibility and to take care of his things. He has them mostly (now) contained to one area.
He has not let up on nagging me until I completely lose my ‘nana about getting more Trashies. It is his birthday next week and his only requests have been ‘more Trashies’ and has stepped out of his comfort zone to tell family members and friends exactly what he’d like for his birthday.
We gave a couple of Trash Pack sets to a friend for his birthday earlier this year. His mum, a few weeks later, rang me to say “Thanks for that”. It may or may not have been loaded with sarcasm, but when this friend comes over to play, with his rapidly growing Trash Pack collection, they play nicely and stay out of my way for the entire time. Win-win, really.
Moose were kind enough to donate some Trash Pack sets to the goody bags for Mums Night Out! on the 13th of April. I have received – particularly from those attendees with boys as children – another few “Hmm, thanks for the Trash Packs”.
It seems they are loved by many … personally, I don’t get it, but if they kids are playing and not annoying me, then great. I’m happy.
It’s a bonus that they are using their imaginations and fingers and playing nicely together. The school holidays were also relativley pleasant, thanks to this utter garbage (I say that because they are, literally, garbage, not in any derogatory way at all).
The Trash Pack, in various sized sets, are available from K-mart and no doubt various other establishments like that. I only say K-mart as that’s where we go to collect ours, I haven’t seen them elsewhere, because I haven’t looked elsewhere. Oh, and my local Coles, but they have a limited selection.
Disclaimer: I was not paid to conduct this review. In fact, I wasn’t even asked to conduct it, but I was so impressed by my eight-year-old and his interaction with them that I was compelled to speak up about it. Aside from the pack of 5 Trashies in the Moose Enterprise bag from the toy fair, all other Trash Pack stuff we have has come out of Godzilla’s pocket money, present money, or bribery (i.e. my money). We now own in excess of 55 Trashies … *sigh* No doubt we’ll have more after the weekend.
I am also considering suing Moose for stress, given I have had to endure “can we get more Trash Packs today?” every single day for the last few months. So much so that on Saturday, by 9.43am, I had to put a ban on the words “trash” and “pack” .
Mums’ Night Out! It’s a wrap
Posted by: | CommentsLast night was THE night of nights. None of this Logies business. I even had my own wardrobe malfunction, whereby I was so focussed on everyone having a brilliant time, that I literally chose my outfit an hour before I was to be at the venue, and had a dodgy slip thing (something I have never worn in my life!) that kept sliding sideways and sitting funny and exposing my bra. A lot.
(I should have gone with the Mix top I had, but I wore that at an event only two weeks ago and … you know, I’m a fuckwit, cos I don’t usually care about stuff like that… anyhoo.)
I spent Thursday evening seconding the kids to ‘help’ finish stuffing the goody bags for the night, then most of the following two hours saying “NO! They are NOT YOURS to have, NO you cannot have one until I get my goody bag tomorrow night and I MIGHT share with you, oh, please, god, help me, why am I doing this?!?!?!?!?!??!?!”
I spent this morning making sure the iPod had all the appropriate music on it, paying invoices, checking numbers, printing tickets, putting stickers on envelopes and hoping everyone fucking appreciates the work put in that they don’t see.
Then I arrived late at the venue, but not so late, just later than my Anal Control Freak Virgo Perfectionist part of my brain likes. You know, 7 minutes later than the time I set myself, which was half an hour earlier than necessary.
The venue – The Butterfly Club – is freaking awesome! They were an absolute pleasure to work with, incredibly accommodating and patient. And the decor was amazing; funky, kitsch, lots of little knickknacks around the place, but mostly comfortable and fun.
Jenny Wynter and her Unexpected Variety Show was equally awesome. I have seen – and reviewed – this show before, and was just as blown away by Jenny’s talent as previous. She is clever, honest, funny – hilarious, actually – and an absolutely brilliant singer. People talk about ‘range’ and ‘pitch’ and stuff like that when it comes to singing. I don’t know enough about the intricacies and technicalities of singing to comment. What I do know is this chick can sing in different accents! And she’s funny. Did I mention that?
Her story is just sooooo heartwarming, and heartbreaking at times, and she’s not scared to sing about her birthing experience.
I laughed and laughed.
Upstairs, afterwards, was food and drinking and just chilling with an amazing bunch of women. I always have just so much fun, just letting my hair down, not having to worry about anything and just knowing I’m loved and supported. It was SO awesome to see some new people come along, a few who had even braved purchasing a single ticket, and having a great time.
It makes my heart sing.
I have to express my gratitude for not only everyone who came along and supported the night, but especially to the chicks from Real Mums (and its Bad Mother’s Club community) whom keep me going and are always there for me.
I’m so impressed by the love and support and community of these chicks. This is how awesome they are … one of our ‘usuals’ couldn’t make it last night, so we rang her and sung to her, so she wouldn’t miss out. Of course, it was a song that she abhors, but that’s not the point; that she abhors it holds a lot of meaning with her and Mums’ Night Out! so we had to include her …
Photos of boobs and shots up dresses were also taken – it’s a given. But they’re being used for blackmail at a later stage deleted.
Goody bags were handed out and rifled through – because who can wait till the morning to check out the loot?!
Massive, massive undying love for the sponsors of Mums’ Night Out! – you all rock! And, apparently, they also rocked our night …
and they are ….
ZangIT of course – my biggest and bestest, arsekickingest (in several perspectives) sponsor. There are not enough words to convey just how much ZangIT have done for me and Mums’ Night Out! Oh, and they provided the bags to house the goodies 
Lindt … NOM! Am blown away by their contribution to the goody bags!
LEGO – thank you! I’m not sure if that’s “for providing something to keep my children entertained and happy” or a more facetious sort of ‘thank you’ along the lines of “great, now I have a heap of nagging going on about getting their hands on the minifigures intended for the bags” … either way, it’s been awesome from a bribery perspective 
And minifigure rock!
Arnotts – more nommage!
Papermate – I love, love, love their new Inkjoy pens! Have you tried them? Awesome. I do – obviously – a lot of writing, and seriously recommend these for the purpose of things like writing … even on arms … just saying …
Moose Enterprise - specifically for their Trash Packs and Sticka-Lulu packs!
Noodle Box – and the Little Miss Chopsticks and toppers.
The Mummyseuss – who has also been a longstanding support and sponsor of Mums’ Night Out! and mums in general
Jacinta’s Kitchen Capers – ditto! And the cupcakes!!!
and, finally, Babysitters and More!
Without you, I’d be in the foetal position on the floor and the night would be blah … thank you all, I can’t express just how much you made my night and my life easier
Here’s the haul: 
Thank you all who supported the night, thank you for coming along and allowing me to have an awesome, FUN, mental health moment … thank you all for being awesome!
Packing for Camp
Posted by: | CommentsMy afternoon and evening resumed wtih the usual.
I collected Godzilla from school, where he and Chippie played beautifully together; some Thomas the Tank Engine meets Trash Packs. It is possibly the absence of Monkey Boy, currently at camp until tomorrow afternoon, that has enabled such peaceful interraction to occur. Or it may just be one of those random coincidences.
There was only a minor argument during this play, that had me overhearing Chippie yelling at Godzilla “I a BIG engine. I not a steam engine. I a TOILET!”
I’m pleased that was resolved soon afterwards.
Grumpy rang (on the land line, he still has my missing phone) to meet up the street so we could take Godzilla out for sushi. He has been begging for ages, so we thought tonight was a good time. Off we go, Chippie riding his bike, backpack filled with trains on his back to ensure as much peace as possible throughout the meal. We arrive out our favourite Japanese restaurant to find it is closed.
This sort of happening is never a good thing when Godzilla is around, as once he gets something in his head, it is difficult to move. We get a lot of “but you said” that is not as easy as one would imagine to deal with.
Also, I was extremely devastated by such news, as I love this place, and incredibly surprised as it is always, always, full. The upside is, they’re moving a few doors away, to a bigger premises, which means we may have a better chance of getting in during one of our spur of the moment, ‘lets go for Japanese’ adventures. The downside of that is it’s moving to next door to the Lego shop.
*sigh*
I angle for Vietnamese as my head nad chest are still snotty and revolting and all I feel like eating is something with a chicken broth base.
We end up at Italian instead, where I have a chicken and spinach soup that is nothing like what I want or need.
Chippie asked Grumpy Pants, very loudly “Have you got obnoxious in your pants?”
Arrive home and remember we need to finish packing for camp for Godzilla tomorrow morning. Monkey Boy has our only sleeping bag (we don’t do camping much, can you tell?) and arrangements have been made for a swap over at campe. Godzilla and I packed on Sunday evening when we ednured Monkey Boy’s packing at the same time, so all we had left were the last minute things, like toothbrush. I made sure to have highlighted all the things we knew we hadn’t packed, and did a double check of it all.
Discovered Monkey Boy had been sent to camp with no towel. I’m not too concerned, last year he advised me he didn’t shower at all for the whole time he was there …
A milestone and the best testimonial
Posted by: | CommentsToday, it is an anniversary. A milestone of sorts. An achievement worthy of recognition.
Today, I celebrate having been a Mum for eleven years. Ironically, it is also my eldest son’s 11th birthday! Who’d've guessed it!
I’m proud to announce that no one has died, been abducted, or broken a limb. Despite considerable attempts to do all three, sometimes at the same time. No one has been mortally wounded. In fact, there have barely been scars. Not permanent ones anyone. Just one’s that can be cured by band aids.
No one has had food poisoning, at least, not at my hands.
No one has become an axe murderer or serial killer. At least, not yet anyway.
The last eleven years have been full of pants wetting laughter, great heaving, gut-wrenching sobs, and everything in between.
I have a gorgeous eleven year old boy, whom what he lacks in recognition of his own abilities he certainly makes up for in his compassion and care for others. He has a brilliant sense of humour, and his parents’ genetic aversion for the aberration that is mornings. I cannot wait until he is a teenager and this kicks in “properly”. Sadly, he also inherited our “smart arse” genes, but I did love having a toddler who could not only understand sarcasm, but use it wisely and appropriately.
Well, as appropriately as sarcasm from a 2 year old can be, I guess.
He has forced me, along with his brother’s, to learn so much about myself, and it was he who opened my eyes and encouraged me to really consider who it is that I am.
He’s forced me to overcome my fears, and face those things that terrify me (like his teacher, and I had to take in cupcakes for his birthday and see her again)
He has challenged me till I’ve been curled up on the wardrobe floor crying, and had me lying in the street, crying with laughter.
I’ve been the worst of mothers, and some days, I think I’ve managed to wing it to the verges of “yeah, ok”.
He told me recently:
“I wish there were more people in the world like you. You’re really nice. Even when someone does something to make you angry, you’re still nice to them and understand why they did it. You’re compassionate. You kind of really stick to the rules and know why there are rules, but when the rules really upset someone, or someone says something that makes someone upset, you really don’t put up with it and you really fight it, and stand up for other people.”
And that kinda made me think I was doing something ok in all of this.
(Do I add that he said this to me just after he’d been told off for something?)
I’m relieved and excited I’ve made it this far, and on the edge of my seat, panicky and anxious about what’s ahead. Still, I’m looking forward to adding some torment and mind-fucking in there.
I’m really happy to have been able to spend the last eleven years with him, and look forward to eleventy-hundred more.
Even if he does like Lego Star Wars …
Talented
Posted by: | CommentsI was a pretty top notch basketball referee when I was younger. The youngest ever, at the time, to have been invited to do my A-grade referee level.
I was also a pretty good aerobics instructor. I ran a business as a personal trainer for ten years, on my own.
After that, whilst raising a young’un or two, I completed a university degree. Majoring in family, society and health. Graduating with a high distinction average. High. Distinction. Average.
I”m reguarly called upon by the media to offer quotes and comment about parenting.
I’m a paid speaker.
I’m a paid writer.
I’m even a published author.
I is somewhat clever.
And how did I spend my afternoon, you may well ask?
Counting. Lego.
Counting Fucking. Lego.
All I can say is “Thank fuck this motherhood gig is not a job, because I’d be going postal about now!”
(And if it is a “job” then it’s not the “best” I’ve ever done. It’s one of the suckiest at times. Still, not the worst though …)
Cute in an Al Pacino – Godfather kind of way
Posted by: | CommentsMonkey Boy is off on school camp for two nights and three days tomorrow.
Last night we followed the standard Kid Packing For School Camp Routine, whereby I asked him to grab his list of what he needs to take whilst I grabbed the smallest bag possible after the packing debacle (my fault entirely!) two years ago whereby I put in an extra one of everythign “just in case”, follwed by a spare “in case the extra one gets wet” and then added the warm version of evetrything on the list, adding an extra of each “just in case” and another spare “just in case”.
That year, he went off to camp with a suitcase three times his actual size. He wore one t-shirt and a pair of shorts for the entire thing.
So I ensure I had smallest suitcase to keep myself in check.
The list was unlocatable, until I found it lying on the floor in the kitchen. Extremely difficult to find an A4 sized white piece of paper on floorboards in the middle of a floor.
Just saying.
Then came the “you get these things on the list sorted” and he goes off and does something else. Something not on the list. Nor even remotely camp related.
Eventually we’re done, with only one “Mum, I think you’re going overboard again” comment. And only one glass of wine. We did good.
Then he needed big squishy cuddles and reassurance that all would be fine. And at 11.07pm that he really needed to go to sleep so he wouldn’t be feral in the morning or on the bus. Although he may well sleep.
He was super helpful this morning and ensuring he had his pillow and sleeping bag, lunch and drink and enough books and LEGO magazines to keep them entertained for the bus trip.
Then he let me know that he’d built a LEGO robot thing – which he had named but I wasn’t listenting to him, so I have no idea what it is – out of Duplo and left it in his bed. Just in case I missed him.
I tried to assure him I wouldn’t miss him at all, and that he would miss me more, but he insisted on leaving this thing in bed so I wouldn’t feel sad and miss him when I went to kiss him good night.
The whole scenario of him never being in his bed when I go in to kiss him goodnight, because he is in our bed and I have to get to the point of yelling at him to get out, is lost on him.
I farewell him at school, get about my day, answer Chippie’s bazillion “where is Maffey?” questions and the “no, not hand”, which I’m thinking is his interpreation of “camp”, denials.
Then I go in to kiss Godzilla goodnight and discover the LEGO/Duplo Monkey Boy replacement in his bed; a head constructed entirely from Duplo, complete with a pair of black pyjama shorts on his head, to emulate Monkey Boy’s longish dark brown with hints of gold and auburn through it, a pillow for the body and some spare jackets for the legs.
???
Don’t ask, but I do believe they were unpackable in the camp bag due to my overdoing of packing things and were just lying there.
Am unsure why it was armless.
Whilst it was an adorable, one of those “Aren’t kids cute?” moments, it was also kinda freaky.
In a Horse’s Head Left In The Bed As A Warning kind of way.
Maybe a “If you don’t buy me more LEGO this is what your head will look like!” message. Or that he won’t come home.
Now I’m just a little bit weirded out. And concerned about the safety of my face.
Although, I’m not entirely convinced that having a LEGO head for a son is all bad.
That’ll need more explanation
Posted by: | CommentsThis post is dedicated to the lovely – albeit geeky and not-sure-how-they-ended-up-inmy-life-but-glad-they-did – Pete Aldin and Alana Murray Phillips. I hope they like it. It’s all they’re getting from me for their birthdays this year.
A Family Day was planned, thus the morning was filled with some mayhem. Mostly convincing the kids that, yet again, we are actually trustworthy, and until we take them to a really boring abatoir, they are not to whinge about not wanting to go and how boring we are and blah blah blah.
Also, there was this:
Yes, the inevitable LEGO Star Wars galactiron, deathstar, air wing, some such thing on the kitchen table.
“Move this off the table, NOW!” is the, also inevitable, polite request from GrumpyPants.
Followed immediatley by the incredibly articulate, informative and compelling (and also inevitable) response of “It’s Bobba Fett!” from Monkey Boy.
As though “It’s Bobba Fett!” explains absolutely everything.
(According to some friends of mine, whom I love to bits, except at times like this when I have my doubts about how we even crossed paths, “It’s Bobba Fett” apparently does explain all that needs explaining as, according to one “Yeah Bobba Fett is a badass. You don’t mess with the guy that crawled back OUT of the Sarlacc!!”, and according to the other “You got it. Dad’ll have to wait until Fett is good and ready to move when he wants to.” – yeah, I’m confused, too, but apparently this says it all)
Anyhoo, off we go for the day, to a steam train thing, which I have come to accept is now a part of my life, and would now like some photography lessons so I may hone my “taking photos of steam train skills” and take some decent photos of, well, stream trains and my family. Figure I may as well take advantage of the situation and niche a little.
Also, as I’m sure some of you will be thinking, I’d LOVE some “Take decent photos of LEGO bits taking over my house” photography lessons. Just saying.
Nicheing.
Anyhoo, it was a lovely day, except for the bit where we passed the rail yards and someone stupidly pointed them out to Chippie who had a full on screaming tantrum for something different whilst we found a place in which to safely do a U-turn, bypass the rail yards again, upping the intensity of said tantrum, finding a park, and watching in fascination as the full on kicking screaming turned, just like that into squeals of delight and yelling “TRAIN, LOOK A TRAIN!” and running off, skill pointing and yelling.
Oh, and same again when we left the rail yards. But he was alseep mere seconds later so it was easier to contend with. Also, I fell asleep moments after.
Arrive home and it appears my geeky, Star Warsy friends were correct. Bobba Fett remained on the table.
Bobba Fett, however much crawling out of things I can’t pronounce, let alone have any clue as to what a Sarlacc may or may not be, is not match for an over-tired Mum who has been out trainspotting all day, with dodgy photography skills and no wine awaiting me as I walked in the door.
Bobba Fett was pretty much having a bad day … and he quickly got himself off the kitchen table. Just in time for dinner, too …
Getting into the Lego Spirit
Posted by: | CommentsWhether you believe it or not, our overzealous obsession with Lego rebuilds in our house is not, at all, to do with the Brickvention expo that was on today.
No, merely that Grumpy has a few weeks off work, and he needs something to do. If that something involves being a grumpy arse and yelling a lot, all the better.
But the expo was on and we went last year and it was fun, so we decided to go again. Besides, Grumpy insisted he wanted to do something familyish every Sunday, so … ner! Um, so we chose this.
The kids had got, unbeknownst to me till I had to put Chippie to bed last night, into the spirit and commenced the redevelopment of the Lego City train scene …
… yes, around and under his cot. Which was in no way going to distract him at all, was it now?
For fuck’s sake.
Particuarly as we’d done the “brush your teeth and go to bed thing” and I’d just got Chippie out of the hyper phase and closer to “I go bit (bed) now” phase and we walk into lights glaring, trains shunting and horns blaring.
*sigh*
And eventually he calms.
And wakes at 3.54am, possibly distracted by the goings on in his room, which are all terribly exciting for a 2 year old, and I have a shit sleep.
Also, we have to get up early, because I wanted to get to the expo early so … I don’t know really. Just because I said so, ok?
We do get up early and do everything that needs doing without arguing and I make lunches and stuff and we leave 15 minutes after the time I said I wanted to, but 15 mins before the time I really wanted to be out the door. Sneaky. But geez I’m awesome sometimes.
And we arrive at 8.55am to a lineup already commenced, and the doors not opening for another hour and 5 minutes. I send Grumpy off for some lattes whilst we wait. Am thankful we left when we did, as by the time he returned with caffienated beverages, the line was around the corner and well up the street.
Phew.
They opened the doors half an hour early, due to the line, which was lovely of them. Monkey Boy got his special gift for being a Lego Club Member and being one of the first 50 in the door, which he handed to me and said I could have it “because you made sure we got here so I could get it”, but I suspect was more because it was something he didn’t really want, and in we go …
Have to say, although it takes a special kind of person to spend 18 months building a plastic construction using 250,000 (and counting) Lego pieces, I am super impressed and in awe of the stuff they have created.
This year, there are loads of train based sets and scenes, which makes for my children being extremely happy. Also, it makes for them being extremely bloody annoying and demanding. Particularly the littlest one, who feels that screaming, grabbing your legs and pushing you back to the last train set we viewed and lying on the floor having a tanty because we don’t are the way to go. Then, screaming “Train! Is a train!” at the top of his lungs when we get to the next bit.
Chippie wasn’t the only one to raise his voice; Monkey Boy and Godzilla (and a few other, similarly aged boys) were, of course, the ones to spot the “Oh, my god, there’s naked people on the boat and they’ve got BOOBS!”
(See if you can spot them)
I took loads and loads of photos, mostly of trains and their layouts, as Monkey Boy is all inspired now and wants to reconstruct his Lego City. Again. Hopefully not in the toddlers bedroom, as am sick of stepping on bits of ship whilst changing a nappy. And I only had to that once, this morning, since the City was constructed in Chippie’s room. Very sick of it.
I even managed quite a few of the obligatory “I’m going to ignore the fact that you are so very clearly taking a photo of this set and will walk / stick my head/ arm / camera / leg in your way” shots …
There was even a Lego man made out of Lego, which was nearly as kickarse as my Lego man cake I made, but not quite. Mostly because my Lego man had a good portion of chocolate mud cake in it and this one didn’t.
I think my favourite bit was this sign, which is exactly what I felt like doing after two-thirds of my offspring vanished, the Grumpy one had gone off in a different direction, with Chippie, and Monkey Boy returned requesting, incessantly, a need for more train tracks that we could “get just over there and you defnitely can’t get them at Kmart, or Target or the Lego Shop any more. Really. And I’ll just get my pocket money in advance ok, so just give me some money now and then you don’t need to pay me pocket money for a few weeks, ok!” It was a statement, not a question.
I might get it done as a sign for my desk, complete with the “please do not touch” note added to the bottom. Yes, I quite like that.
After patienly waiting for, like, ever for all these kids to have their photos, I eventually got sick of them pushing in, pushed them out of the way and managed to get a snap shot of myself with some people from Star Wars; a white plastic guy, a chubby guy and some chick waving a pink Light Saber around. I have no idea who or what they were, but I hope someone is impressed by this. I was, however, extremely disappointed to discover they weren’t actually made of Lego! That was seriously disappointing *sigh*
After several hours, we head outside for lunch, because Godzilla was “starving” and, as we were in the City, decided to go wandering. Ended up at ACMI and checking out all kinds of things, including, of course, the computer games section where my poor ten year old boy was sent into shock when attempting to have a go at good old space invaders and turned to me sayign “How did you survive?”
I know, it was tough, but I did.
Chippie managed to get himself stuck between some pillars. Those pillars also happened to be in the middle of a maze of pillars that required some creative movements from myself, and to get Monkey Boy to assist without becoming too distressed. Godzilla just vanished.
Eventually we located and retrieved, as applicable, all family members and head home.
Some relaxation time before early bed. I organised Chippie’s milk before heading into my office to catch up on a bit of work, only to hear Grumpy say, half an hour later “where did you get that milk from?” and my ears prick up. I yell that I left it for him, including directions on where I left it.
“Yeah, he had that one, where did this one come from?”
And we both decided that it was best if we didn’t think too carefully about that, for fear of being totally disgusted.
Off they went to bed, Chippie in his cot, Monkey Boy to his room and Godzilla to the play tent, not tent tent, that they had set up in the back yard late yesterday afternoon.
Great. Not that I have a problem with him sleeping in it, just that maternal paranioa you can sometimes get when your seven year old is sleeping out in the back yard, alone and your bedroom is at the front of the house andyou can’t hear anything if something goes wrong and he’s allergic to spiders, and it’s not the mozzies I’m worried about, whatifhegetsbittenbyeaspideranddiesandIdon’thearanything?!
ARGH!
Contemplate sleeping on the couch, just in case … because, you know, if he gets bitten by a spider and dies I will, apparently, hear it from inside on the couch, but not inside in my bed … and then figure he’ll probably get bored and come inside anyway.
I go out to say goodnight, and he’s fast asleep. So go to bed … exhausted. It has, after all, been a very big day.
(Also have to add, Brickvention did an awesome job with their expo – well done, guys!)
The Lego Void and Mind Melds
Posted by: | CommentsOf course, it all started with a friend sending me a photo of her son, smiling beautifully and holding up a picture he’d done … and all I notice is the Thomas the Tank Engine shirt he is wearing, even though it’s mostly obscured by the picture and is seriously out of focus.
I contemplate the excitement that is my life, before sending off an email to a business colleague that conained, inexplicably, the word “vaginatory”. I don’t know what this word is, and feel I may have inadvertantly invented it. I think I may have to give it a definition and use it more often.
Deciding this, and the fact that I had a scheduled website downage, I felt it best to leave the office for the interim. Sadly, this resulted in my being sucked into the Enforced Complete Lego Rebuild that kicked off two days ago, whereby Grumpy decided he’d had enough of the Lego being in bits and it had to be put back together, all of it, no alterations, RIGHT NOW!
Given the overall levels of animosity then, I knew I was in for a good time and wondered if 11.27am was too early to declare it Wine O’Clock.
I do find a Lego build, or rebuild as the case may be, rather therapeutic and was looking forward to the challenge. Until I discovered there was a dress code for the task at hand.
The dining room table is also covered in bits, partial rebuilds and leftover toast crusts that we are to extract relevant pieces from and construct all manner of vehicle. To the letter of course.
We even have a separate casualty ward set up for victims of the Great Lego Destruction of various children’s birthday parties, guests over for dinner and various other social gathering throughout 2011 …
They weren’t as traumatised as I anticipated, and nowhere near as traumatised as I was ten minutes into the adventure, as Grumpy has, for some unfathomable reason, a desire for two people to work on one Lego construction.
This. Does. Not. Work.
Especially when I find losing myself in a creation good for my mental health. Having someone go “what piece are you looking for?” and “here, put this bit there” and “no, that’s no the bit you need, this is” and “oh, wait, no its not, you’re doing it all wrong!” and Monkey Boy buggering off to do his own thing / escape, which is causing Grumpy to have a conniption because “he should be here doing it!” and yelling a lot and being, well, grumpy.
Also, some bits are already partially constructed and you spend hours trying to find a teensy piece, only to discover it half an hour later attached to the bit you need right after you attach that teensy bit you’ve spent ages looking for. Some bits are also partially reconstructed in the wrong configuration. Which only leaves you thinking that the schmozzle of pieces actually goes on a construction you’re not working on right now, and rather annoyed when you discover it a bit later on.
I did, however, manage to fully reconstruct, to everyone’s approvoal, a coast guard helicopter – minus the pilots and rescue dudes – despite all the disharmony around me.
I was very proud of myself. Mostly that I hadn’t thrown it against the wall part way through, due to:
- the fact I’ve already built the fucker
- people were trying to “help” me by, you know, pissing me off
- it was too early for wine, and besides, it was over there and I wasn’t risking walking across the floor to the fridge what with the amount of Lego lying around!
Anyhoo, all done.
Then, *sigh* – this happened …
… which meant this happened …
Nooooooooooooooo!
So I went and had a bit of a lie down with the others in the casualty ward, broken and with bad hair.
I left when I realised how teensy their wine glasses were though. What is with that?
Father-Son Time
Posted by: | CommentsIt went like this:
9.23am Grumpy decides to go for a walk and informs me. Chippie has screaming tantrum, involving the throwing of shoes at heads and climbing into his pram.
9.27am Grumpy takes Chippie for a walk.
10.12am Grumpy returns with Chippe and the missing Arna – hurrah! It was in the bank.
10.58am Grumpy completes rereading the paper and drinking coffee and decides he wants the Lego stuff sorted.
10.58 and 7 seconds: NOW!
10.59am Informs Monkey Boy that “this shit needs to be sorted” and advises him it needs to all rebuilt.
11.03am Ignores my comments re Lego being designed to be built and pulled apart and rebuilt.
11.04am Further ignores comments relating to Monkey Boy being equally pissed off that no one else seems to respect the effort he put into building them and have no qualms about destorying them, leaving bits of Lego all over the place and leaving Monkey Boy terribly upset.
11.05am Grumpy suggests I shut up and and grumbles about Lego being pulled apart and makes comments about it being left alone once it is built.
11.06am Ignores further comments about Lego being designed to play with and the number of times he has ignored my suggesetions that we get appropriate storage box-like things or some other form of receiptable that will enable effective storage of said Lego pieces, that will also prevent amount of Lego being spread around the house.
11.07am I leave them to it, outdoor table covered in Lego bits and Grumpy and Monkey Boy snarling at each other.
11.17am Can’t stand it any more and go outdoors to request that they play nicely and, perhaps, merely a suggestion, but make the most of this time and have FUN together.
11.18am Grumpy mouths fuck off to me.
11.19am Get camera and take a photo of this moment. My “moment” I mean the actually bit, quite coincidentaly, where Grumpy again mouths fuck off.
11.42am Monkey Boy comes in to show me a piece they have completed. Complete with explicitly detailed commentary.
11.59am Monkey Boy comes in to show me another finished piece. Again with commentary. Godzilla comes in telling me I have one minute to make lunch.
12.08pm Lunch being made. Grumpy and Monkey Boy still at it. Lego scattered on outdoor table appears not to have been touched. At all.
12.19pm Lunch consumed.
12.21pm Chippie has screaming tantrum because it is his bedtime and he has had the half built Lego diesel train pried from his fingers.
12.23pm Chippie in his cot having a screaming tantrum. I return to work.
1.10pm Monkey Boy enters office to show me yet another completed piece. Wish he would shut up. If I wanted brick by brick description of how the piece was built, I’d be doing it myself. There is a reason I’m not.
1.12om Reason I’m not out there building with them is reinforced as I hear Grumpy advise Monkey Boy how to do something, and Monkey Boy yell back about how he does it and why he’s doing it that way, and Grumpy adding his two bits in and I scream loudly so I can’t hear it any more.
1.21pm Chippie still resisiting sleep.
1.22pm Grumpy grasps frantically for a suitable distraction and heads off to accountant to sign some documents. Chippie runs past office door just as Grumpy driving out driveway and starts screaming “Daddy, daddy” because, apparently, being left with me is a fate worse than death. Godzilla sidles past and informs me he got Chippie out “because, aw, he was awake and didn’ want to go to sleep”.
1.24pm The nagging starts about me “helping”
1.26pm I suggest enough fun is had for the day, and that we pack it all up.
3.57pm Outdoor table finally cleared of all Lego, which has been replaced into specific, piece designated boxes, in order to embark on some more fun when the moment arises.
3.58pm Am hoping this moment arises when I am in a different country.
Fuck you make me laugh (via Twitter @woogsworld)