Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The Shape of Things

Howdy folks...I'm on a Rule Roll...another entry straight away pour vous. I have a couple more Sorcha tales that are sure to amuse, but ones that I thought should be separate from the last tale.
In case you've spent a fair bit of time in a dark dwelling such as a cave or have spent a year or 2 under a rock, you know that Barack Obama is now the president of the USA. Last week on inauguration day, Sorcha came home from school and told my hubby and I that they watched part of the inauguration ceremony at school. I found that fascinating because as far as I know back in October when Stephen Harper became Prime Minister...again...they didn't watch diddly about it at school. The following is a conversation I had with Sorcha.

"Really?" I asked, "You watched part of the swearing in ceremony at school?"
"So, you know what the president looks like? You could pick him out of a line up?"
"Does he seem like a nice guy?"
"Do you know what Stephen Harper looks like?"

This seems sad except that, and I won't Harp (Ha!) on this too much, he's not very memorable...for some. I however, can't wipe his plastic hair and smile from my mind...But let me add, that if you asked Sorcha who the Canadian Prime Minister was, she would tell you Stephen Harper. She knows a lot more about Prime Ministers then I do as she has a place mat with all of them up to and including Paul Martin on it. She even, when quizzed by me just for kicks, correctly answered, who the only Prime Minister with a mustache was. Do you know? In case you're not walking around with a $100 in your pocket, it's Sir Robert Borden. Tell your friends! They're sure to be impressed! Now, some others did have facial hair, but he was the only one to sport JUST a mustache.

OK, next on our list of tales...

For Christmas my mother gave Sorcha a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse DVD. It turns out it's for wee kids, (and similar in context to Dora the Explorer where the main character doesn't seem to know much about his or her environment so is constantly looking at the screen and asking the kids watching to point out "Where Boots is" for example even though he is CLEARLY right beside her...) but she still enjoys it for the most part. However, Sorcha being quite literal in her thinking gets very indignant at times about certain things she watches when she just can't wrap her head around why they are the way they are. One day she says "You know the Mickey Mouse in Micky Mouse Clubhouse? Well...I don't understand because he has his license, he owns a car, but...he doesn't know his shapes!" She understands that the show is a learning show for little ones, but she figures that if he's going to teach kids WHILE driving, he should not pretend he doesn't know his shapes as it's very silly and misrepresents what a person (or mouse) should know BEFORE they get behind the wheel of a car. I happen to agree with her. Why do characters have about as smart as a box of hair so that kids feel like they are learning? But that I think, should be another blog entry altogether.

So long for now,
I'll leave you to get your Cin on.

PS: I'd like to pass on a lovely Hello to good friend Jason Gemmill. I learned the immortal phrase "Smart as a box of hair" from him.

Tell Me What's the Circumstance of Circumcision?

Hello Blog Fans

The title of the this entry is no great creation of mine, but of the Barenaked Ladies. It's a clever line a song called "I know" from their third album "Born on a Pirate Ship".

A couple of weeks ago, Sorcha took a book, a kids book, out of the library about Egypt. One quiet afternoon while intently reading about the pyramids, the desert and the Nile, she stopped suddenly and with a look of sheer incredulity on her face she asks "Mummy? What are they doing?" I take the book from her to see this (see picture below)....

"Huh...well...that's an interesting thing to put in a kids book..." I said...slightly bemused..

"What are they doing?"

I thought for a few seconds about the best way to handle this delicate circumstance and thought that in this case honesty probably was the best policy.

"Well...I could tell you. Do you want me to tell you? It's a bit icky..."

"OH I don't want to know about icky stuff!!"

"Well, Sorcha, you're going to have to learn about icky stuff eventually. Do you want me to tell you?"


So, without a full transcription of our conversation, let me just say that, based on the basics of the male anatomy that she knows, I told her as delicately, but as truthfully, as I could with out being too "icky".

"Oh...OK..." she says...looking pretty confused as she tried to digest this new and probably disturbing information about the society in which she was being raised.

"But why are they holding his arms back?" (see picture)

"Oh...well...back then, they didn't have anything to freeze that area with so that they wouldn't feel any pain so it probably hurt quite a bit and my guess is that he didn't WANT to get this done."

And there you have it. I suppose I could have denied knowing what they were doing or said she wasn't ready to know, but I think that would have been a bad thing. She's only 7 yes, but I was too when I started to ask questions about all the "icky stuff". And my answers will be calculated in a way, based on her age at the time she asks, but I will be honest because that's how I roll. She's growing up and unlike the crocodiles in Egypt, I won't live in De Nile.

Until next time,
Cin with the best.

Friday, January 2, 2009

The Long Hot Shower

I have a confession to make...

I am guilty of the long, hot shower.

It is a beacon of watery escape.
A security blanket disguised as a waterfall.
As I surrender to its warmth
I feel safe and protected
It's rhythmic hum blocks out other noises beyond the frogs
and leaves me at peace with my own thoughts.

I then however, become victim of the long, hot shower.

For the seclusion of the tub with it's vinyl curtain,
the sound of the steady fall of therapy will not block out,
will not let me forget all the thoughts that make me weary.
I am glued to my hot spot as I sort through a mind full of
longing, guilt, cynicism and wrath.
But in there I feel no pain.

For them, I become crusader of the long hot shower.

When I step out of my steamy haven
and face the realities of my happy world,
I feel better, I feel comforted and relaxed.
The shower washes away the dark thoughts,
and it cleans my mind with a scented hope
that I can make it through to the next...

long hot shower.

Here's hoping your New Year is full of,