Dear Aunty Becca,

Are you sure that this was the first time your tatas have appeared on the internet?
P.S. Mummy and Daddy are quite convinced that I look like Uncle Denis in that cardigan, that hat and pulling that face.....

They're up to something....

Dear Luke, Tamika, Logan, Lachlan, Eleanor and Ella,

Did you guys realise that our Mummies went out last night.... without us?

How dare they abandon us like this!

Poor Lachlan was awake the whole night, wracked with worry about what his mother was up to.

Not impressed, Mummies, not impressed.

Adventures in Public Health.

Oh, have I got an adventure for you!

You may have noticed that I've been remarkably quiet here on the blogging front..... Well, I have an excuse. It's not that Mummy and I have been busy at work and childcare, but I've been in hospital.

Mid-way through last week, what the mum's from my 'posse' call my smoker's cough was getting a lot worse. On Wednesday, Mummy picked me up from childcare and the beautiful Natasha said she was a little concerned about my cough and that I had a high temperature. Mummy took me home, dosed me up on panadol and cough syrup, and sent me to bed (naturally after some gruel and a sound whipping...joking, joking....we were all out of gruel, so I had the crumbs from the bottom of the toaster.) After a shocking night's sleep, which Auntie Kathryn can attest to (she rang to bitch, sorry I mean talk with Mummy and heard me coughing and declared I wasn't sounding well) Mummy made me a doctor's appointment.The lovely Seema, our doctor took one look at me and started to go into cardiac arrest, sending me off for x-rays and ultimately to hospital.

After transversing the length and breadth of Canberra, several hours in Emergency and twelve hours since our initial appointment, I was safely tucked into a bed in the paediatrics ward, with god awful oxygen prongs up my nose, and even more offensive heart monitors attached to my toes. My blood oxygen saturation levels and my heart rate were having a hard time stabilising and frankly, I felt damn miserable.

Because Mummy and Daddy are cheap-skates and because Canberra Hospital is a teaching facility, we saw marauding hordes of interns, residents and registrars, all of whom had different opinions on what was wrong with me:

Oh, it's pneumonia..

Oh, it's an acute viral infection..

Oh, it's early onset asthma..

ad nauseum.

Eventually, the hoards in white coats settled on bronchiolitis. Then just when I was starting to feel better, I tested positive to some virus called RSV and had to go into isolation.After my second night in hospital, Mummy was a big, fat teary mess, Daddy was sick of driving back and forth and Nellie just wanted me and Mummy to come home, they let me out. YAY! Man the sun and wind on my face as we walked to the car felt good...and scruffing my Nellie and pulling my books off the shelf and distributing them around the room feels good too.

So, I'm home, and while I will miss the perks of hospital like frequent bottles of milk (something they phased out weeks ago here), foods like flavoured yohgurt and custard and unlimited access to my dummy, I'm happy to be home. I'll let you know in a few days how the smoker's cough is going, but now I've got to hassle that dog, she's had it far too easy the last few days!

One day I'll be describing this to my therapist.

Thank you Eleanor for the wardrobe assistance.

An apology

Dear Eleanor,

In light of the unprecedented events this morning, I feel I need to apologise. You know how you and I 'accidentally' ran into each other outside your childcare centre this morning? I don't think the whole thing was so accidental after all, because after your evil Mummy took you inside and abandoned you, she took me home! To your house! In your car! In your car seat! And let me play with your toys! I knew something had to be going on, because my evil Mummy was all dressed up and was wearing high heels and perfume. And when she picked me up from your house she was all anxious and nervous, but now she's all excited and manic. I do not know what this is all about..... and I'm not sure if I like it!

So my friend, I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but your Mummy has been untrue.

I'll see you and your treacherous mother tomorrow and we can figure out what the hell is going on.

Come on, give me something to work with here!

Okay, dear readers, I love you and all that, and appreciate you visiting The Wonderful World of Walter, but you all really suck at commenting. I ask you questions and get nothing- zip, zilch, nada! Should I change the aesthetics of the blog?.....no response. How have you been driving your parents insane?.....deafening silence!

Come on feed a small boy's ego and leave me a comment!

Portrait of the Artist.

Bad Parents in Contemporary Culture.....Part Deux.

Okay, I think that we have established that my grown ups, Andrew and Anthea, being novices and all, are not very good at this parenting game. In addition to taking me to a den of iniquity last weekend they have also:

• Sent me to daycare with questionable nappy emissions.




• Failed to heed such warning signs as pulling on my ears and crying when I lay down.




• When Mummy did finally take me to the doctors, it turns out that I have a middle ear infection and gastro. And then she and Dr Sharma spent most of the consultation researching Mummy's and Auntie Kate's question du jour - 'Where do your ovaries go when you're pregnant?'




• Then to top off this list of heinous crimes, they tried to take me to a portrait sitting this morning. Said portrait sitting was a no go and had to be rescheduled as I spent the whole time crying. When we got home Mummy finally deemed to take my temperature - 39.2 degrees......To quote the great Spike Milligan 'I told you I was ill'!

This shabby treatment surely deserves retribution. What do you think I should do?

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!

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....