narrating kayoz

Nothing; Something; Om.

Last year Liam had a phase where he would regularly come out with this joke:

Liam: Mummy...
Me: Yes Liam?
Liam: Nothing (hahahahaha)

[short pause]

Liam: Mummy...
Me: Yes Liam?
Liam: Something! [more laughter]

The first part of this was something he learned at school (and I remember learning it there myself). The second part he learned from my mother.

Mikaela now has her own version of this, although rather than consider it a joke, I think it's her way of making conversation.

Mikaela: Mummy...
Me: Yes Kaely
Mikaela: Ummm [except when she says it it sound more like "Ommm"]
[short pause, then repeat]

I find it it very cute, as well as a more than a little amusing.

Telling stories

I'm interested in the way Liam is constantly narrating his - and our - life to me, or to whoever else will listen, as though it is new information. For instance, he went to the loo in our massage room, and as he sat there he told me

"The toilet is high like this because the water wasn't flushing properly out of here," he indicates the pipe taking the contents of the toilet out by the side, not at the back like a common s-shape toilet pipe. "So we had to get someone to get the toilet off the floor and put this stone under it," (indicating the built up pedestal of cement lifting the toilet a couple of inches off the floor), "and then they put the toilet on top of it and attached it with screws, didn't they?"

The 'didn't they' is almost an after thought, barely requiring any confirmation on my part, (although in fact that's not quite the way it worked).

This is a regular part of his conversation, telling me things that we both already know. Another example is when he's just asked his father something in my presence, but then turns to me to tell me "I asked Daddy, X, and he said Y," just as though I wasn't right next to them the whole time.

Writing in the dark

In one of the novels I have just read for uni, Diane Blacklock's Almost Perfect, (yes, another infertility narrative, although the back cover description - romantic comedy - is really more on the mark), one of the minor characters claims that it's good for him to write in the back room of his house, because if his study had a view he would never get any work done.

The character to whom he's speaking (a newly wannabe writer who appears to be a 'natural') feels differently and spends some time making her writing space just right. Until she realises she's procrastinating and just starts writing.

I get both points of view, but I have to say: on gorgeous days like today, I think I would find it easier to settle in to work if I at least had some sunlight in my 'office'.  Because quite frankly, without it, I'd rather be outside.

On the other hand with the runny, irritated nose and eyes I have at the moment, the glare outside would probably blind me. Maybe I should stop making excuses and just get to work. But honestly, after three cups of caffeinated coffee (for someone who usually sticks to decaf tea), that's easier written than achieved.

Nonsexist books - where they succeed and where they don't.

In "Learning to Be Little Women and Little Men: The Inequitable Gender Equality of Nonsexist Children's Literature," Amanda B. Dickman and Sara K. Murnen found that "Nonsexist books succeeded in portraying female characters as adopting the characteristics and roles identified with the masculine gender role, but they did not portray male characters as adopting aspects of the feminine gender role or female characters as shedding the feminine gender role" (381).

(Lisa Rowe Fraustino, 'The Berenstain Bears and the Reproduction of Mothering' The Lion and the Unicorn, 31.3 (2007), 250-263, p. 257)

I'm sure I've said this before, but there's no harm in repeating myself - any recommendations of children's books that succeed in doing any of the above (better yet all, but as the authors note, that is rare), I am all ears.