Da Boyz.

Bad Parents in Contemporary Culture.....Please Discuss.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I may have 'bad parents'. 'Why Walter, what ever makes you say that?' I hear you ask.

They took me, at the tender age of eight months, to the pub last night (I spent the whole evening in fear of getting carded!) It was Uncle Jeremy's birthday yesterday and we went to a local yuppie bar/cum drinking establishment to for an hour or two to help him celebrate. Whilst there lots of people admired my tres stylish AB/CD t shirt, my boyish good looks and my superior ability to vomit on Mummy's shoulder several hours after my last bottle.

Mummy claims that Nanna and Claudie used to take her to the pub after football and after mass all the time when she was little, but hello.... that was your social life because you lived in the middle of nowhere! Daddy, however with his comparatively urban upbringing isn't so sure.

Anyhoo! I also got to meet my cousin Carl who, despite living around the corner, never comes to see us.

It was kinda fun, but I'm wondering what the good people at Family Services would think!

34.3 degrees...

See, Aunty Kathryn.... this is why I need a wading pool.

5.15 am

Oh, I do love the smell of tired parents in the morning......

Me n' my gal

Systems back on line.

Woo Hoo! I think we can get pictures again.

Here are some large novelty boobs to celebrate (they were meant to go with the breastfeeding post).

Possession is nine tenths of the law.

A most peculiar thing happened to me this morning. I was in bed with Mummy and Daddy this morning having a lovely early morning snuggle. We were all drowsy and cuddly, the parents both had horrendous morning breath, Nellie was burrowed in under the blankets....The blankets fell away and suddenly I could see Mummy's boobie. So I did what any self respecting red blooded male would do, I went to grab it...and rudely had my hand diverted by Daddy, who claimed that the boobie now was his!

You see, apparently when I gave up breast feeding I forfeited all my rights to Mummy's chest. No one told me this, why wasn't I informed? You would think that someone would have sat me down and explained my rights to me, almost as a disclaimer. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hasty to reject Mummy and all her milky goodness.

See, Mummy and I had been having feeding 'issues' for quite some time, I wanted more than she could give me (story of her life, I can hear her muttering from the background). I got sick of working for a decent let down and well, the sweet chemical taste of formula was just too appealing (it's like heroin man, one bottle and you're hooked!). But that said, during crisis times, like when Dad accidentally walked me into the door frame or when Mum accidentally let me roll off their bed, I really miss being held so close and that comforting soft boobiliciousness. A mere cuddle just doesn't cut the mustard!

I know that Mummy has been wracked with guilt over my rejection of her boobies - I think she wanted to be one of those mummies of a certain crunchy persuasion who fed their kids until university. And now that I've handed in my notice, Daddy's right there waiting to claim them back.So I ask you this who do they belong to? Um, last time I checked the boobies in question were actually attached to Mummy's chest and ergo, are not mine, are not Daddy's but are hers.

Free the Boobies!

Liberate the former lactators!

Sag away, my pretties!

Phew!

The good people of The Australian Federal Police found our car, relatively safe and sound on the shores of scenic Lake Ginninderra in the wee hours of this morning. I hope nothing happened to traumatise my toys!

Where, oh where has my jellybean gone?

Some bastard stole our car! Mummy and I went to go to our respective daycare centres this morning to find that our Mazda (the little or old car, depends on who you're talking to) was gone. It was there last night, but this morning all that was left was some debris where they broke open the lock on the driver's side door.
This means that life is about to become a whole lot harder for Mummy and Daddy... And some of my favourite toys were in there!

The Bastards....

Next stop, Port Vila!

Today we take leave of Mummy's dear friend 'Lette, who goes on posting to Vanuatu today for the next few years. Colette has been one of the few people that Mummy has been able to be brutally honest with about the realities of this parenting malarky.....and Daddy and I thank you!
We're going to miss you heaps, and we know that Nick and my mate Julian will be lost without you.
I am however getting alarmed by the rumours of me and Daddy having some 'boys bonding time' whilst Mummy says she's going to sit by the lagoon, tucking foreign currency into some pool boy's trunks.

International League of Infant Anarchists- human rights division, is there something that can be done?

'Lette, it would seem we still have technical difficulties posting photos, so it looks like you got lucky, because the photo I was gonna use was a doozy!

The fesitval of Mummy.

We apologise for this break in transmission due to industrial action related to Mummy having something called a birthday.
What are these 'birthdays', where does one get one, can you buy them at Target? I know I've never had a 'birthday' and if my memory serves me correctly, neither has Daddy in my lifetime. All I know is that Mummy got all dressed up and went out on Saturday night and then was no fun what so ever on Sunday. Then yesterday I had to do her a painting at day care and Daddy cooked her a special dinner, full of ingredients he doesn't really like, whilst she sat back with a soothing gin and tonic.
I want to know what all this is about....

I would have liked to include a terribly sexy photo of Mummy, but it would appear that Daddy's porn is corrupting our system...

The Mother of Invention.

In light of my emergent skills of scooting backwards and in circles across the kitchen floor (not the carpet though, too much traction!), Mummy has been working on putting me to work.

Plus

Equals

Carpet and Upholstery attachments are still in the research and development phases.