Moata's Blog Idle
This is the time of year which, assuming you have time between gift-wrapping, food-gathering, and family-accommodating, one's mind turns to reflection and reminisince. A time to look back on the year just gone and say "where the hell did the time go?"
Here at Blog Idle I generally review the year on the blog. What were the things that we talked about over the preceding 12 months? More specifically, which were the most embarrassing of my disasters? Which news stories sparked the imagination and impassioned commentary?
Of course, this year things are a little different since after the birth of my son I took six months off from the blog. I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck around despite my half year break quietly refereshing the Blog Idle landing page every few minutes, sighing wistfully, sometimes shedding a silent tear untill my return. Kia kaha, guys. Kia kaha.
I'd also like to say thanks for those of you who comment. Comments on blogs and articles, as we all know, sometimes make us despair. Humanity is never so disappointing as when it's anonymously passing judgement, gleefully exercising its bigotry muscle, or just spelling it "your" when it means "you're". But Blog Idle commentors are more often than not, reasonable, witty, empathetic or riotously subversive. Possibly some of you haven't been that pleased about all the parenting-related posts but the content of this blog has always reflected the realities of my own life and I expect it to continue to do so.
But anyway, it's been a big year for me. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Here's where we've been.
Over the years it's been something of a Blog Idle tradition to provide you, dear readers, with an alphabetical listing of my own Christmas wisdom. Here's the first one from 2008, followed by 2009. In 2010 I managed a pathetic two letters before giving up but then rallied back to full 26 letter strength in 2011. I mixed it up a bit in 2012 with a Christmas carol version. But this time last year I was a bit busy being miserable about my underweight Intensive Care-residing baby for that kind of thing. But he's been out for quite a while now and we're now looking down the barrel of our first fully fledged "family with child resident" Christmas.
And that, ladies and sirs, is a whole new ballgame. Or at least I think it is. It's hard to know exactly since we haven't actually had Christmas yet so let's consider this year's list as a touch speculative.
A is for "ALL THE PHOTOS". Yes. You are allowed to take 352 photos on Christmas Day of your baby smiling, eating giftwrap, and drooling on family members. However there is absolutely no obligation for you to put ALL of them on Facebook. Edit a little before going on an upload frenzy, yeah?
B is for "Bouncing". Babies love being dandled, bounced or generally jostled about. But maybe not on a full tummy.
C is for "Competitive Nana-ing". The Master has been blessed with two doting Nanas both of whom, I suspect, harbour a secret wish to be "Alpha-nana". There's every chance this may play out via the media of gift-giving and baby-cossetting on Christmas Day. And I'm fine with this. If, however, things progress towards arm wrestling and who can drink the most vodka shots I will either have to separate them, or film them and stick the whole thing on YouTube.
They say that having children really "makes" Christmas. That otherwise jaded individuals can suddenly, with offspring in the house, be overcome with childlike wonder. This has yet to happen at Whare Tamaira-Fox but as The Master has only just turned one he doesn't really have much of a clue as to what's going on. His childlike wonder is mostly along the lines of "I wonder what tinsel tastes like" and "Unattended gift-wrapping scissors! WANT!"
And recently we've been having conversations around what we do and don't tell him about Santa Claus. As rational, truth-seeking, science-loving folk the actively engaging in the perpetuation of a myth to another generation sits a touch uncomfortably. We won't be telling him that God is a real, actual thing so why would Santa get a free pass?
Because society doesn't actively encourage the belief in Santa Claus into adulthood. Oh, and probably because the opportunity to massively troll one's own offspring is just too, too tempting.
The Silver Fox has always been quite certain that he wanted to spend as much time as possible telling outright lies to our child in the interests of creating an inquisitive, critical thinker who has finely tuned BS radar from a young age. I've seen him tell a child that a picture of a teapot was actually an elephant. They were confused but delighted by this. In my own childhood, my mother's father was a stellar practitioner of this particular philosophy who simply could not be relied upon to answer a straight question with a straight answer. Even questions as mundane as "Grandad, how old are you?" were answered with cryptic statements like "twice as old as me teeth" or "older than this table leg". He regularly told my sister and me that he had bought us each "a packet of Juicy Fruit" for Christmas and wasn't that great since that was our favourite chewing gum, wasn't it? We only ever 70 percent believed anything he said and often quite a bit less. We adored him.
|You're never too old to get a photo with Santa|
Last week regular commenter "Ben8" expressed disappointment that all this hectic 40th birthday planning was distracting me from more important issues such as the teaser trailer for the new Star Wars movie.
Well said, sir. Well said.
And as a self-proclaimed Star Wars fan of several decades I should really have addressed this much earlier. The reason that I haven't is partly because, as Ben8 noted, I have many things to distract me at the moment but also because, well, we've been down this road before, haven't we?
I'm speaking of "The Prequels".
I saw Episode I: The Phantom Menace in London the week it opened. I watched it at The Odeon in Leceister Square which at the time boasted the largest cinema screen in Europe. I was so excited about it that I was literally bouncing up and down in my seat. And yet all I really took away from the film was that Darth Maul's double-edged light saber was cool and that the pod race scene gave me a massive headache and there was some nonsense about "midi-chlorians". If asked I would probably have told you that I really enjoyed the film but I would have been lying (mostly to myself).
How crazy has the last week been for me?
Let me explain.
No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
Turned 40. Had a facial. Flew in a helicopter. Watched some frolicking dolphins. Threw a Princess Bride Party. Oh, and I'm now engaged to a Rodent Of Unusual Size.
So yeah, been pretty busy.
Blog terms and conditions
You're welcome to post in the comments section of our blogs. Please keep comments under 400 words. When submitting a comment, you agree to be bound by our terms and conditions.