Next week I will be blogging at Inside a Dog. Anyone got any suggestions of interesting writerly type things I can blog about? I am planning on doing some candid posts about adolescence...should be scary. And possibly funny. But hey, I was in grade eight in 1988, which was never going to be pretty.
We bought a new camera as our old one seems to be D-E-D (that's dead, for those of you who don't know how to spell proper). It is charging at the moment. Oooh. It's not fancy, but I'm okay with that. Martin picked it while Fred and I looked at a cringeworthy shop in Epping Shopping Pahlooza (not the real name) that was full of genu-ine fake asian and african artifacts. I was cringing so much I couldn't walk upright. Anyway, camera is charging. Photos, finally, tomorrow.
I drove all the way back from Epping. I even went on the freeway which scares the b'jeezus out of me because of the whole merging thing (though I quite like driving fast). So I am now a B'jeezus free zone. Thanks for asking.
Our echidna came back. We hung out. I think he's voting Green. He came right up to the veranda. Have I mentioned I love it here?
Fred has started talking to people. To everyone. She asks them what their name is, what their mother's name is, what their sister's name is on and I like your watch and your bag and your blue eyes. It can be quite embarrassing, like when she sticks her head under the gap between toilet cubicles. But she is not easily deterred. Even when people are outwardly rude, she just stands there and says 'excuse me excuse me excuse me' until they answer. I find it both funny and confronting. But mostly funny. Then Fred said to Martin the other morning, 'Why when I say hello to people do you and Mummy laugh?' So we must try not to find it funny or confronting. She used to be quite shy and quite reluctant to talk to other adults, so it's actually a really good development for her. And it's not her fault if some people are rude. I have this enormous need to buffer, to protect her from other people's rudeness and to protect them from my extremely nosy four year old. I need to step back and let her discover all by herself that people can sometimes be difficult, as for them, they cna all look after themselves. I myself have a tendency to avoid difficult interactions. So I like the idea of her wading in no matter what and continuing to press until she gets a smile, I don't want to parent her out of that.
On the other side of the spectrum, Fred has also learned the word hate and she uses it a lot. This grinds me down. Of course she's allowed to hate things, I can't expect her to think everything is sunshine and roses. But that word...it's such a bad freaking vibe to spread around the earth. Seriously. And the flippancy with which she uses it... Yeah, yeah. I know. She's four. She doesn't really HATE ducks. But she needs to find a more...semiotically rich (as my undergrad students would say) way of expressing herself.
Photos photos. Tomorrow. I promise.