Tasmiya

2 year old: I want roti sugar!

Tasmiya: Here you go.

2 year old: No, I don’t want roti sugar!

I want noodles!

Tasmiya: *sigh* OK. Let me make it for you.

(places bowl of noodles on table)

2 year old: I don’t want noodles!

Tasmiya: How about you try to make a wee in the toilet.

2 year old: I don’t want to make a wee!

Tasmiya: Ok fine, just don’t go and make it on the carpet - call me if you need to go and I will help you.

(moments later)

2 year old: I MADE A WEE ON THE CARPET!

Tasmiya: ARGGHGH!

2 year old: I want to go see Naani.

Tasmiya: We have things to do at home so maybe another day.

2 year old: BUT I WANT TO SEE NAANI!!

(managing to get all house stuff in order, get the boys ready and drive to Mum’s. Pull into the driveway)

2 year old: Awww I didn’t want to come HERE!

Tasmiya: *sigh*

I’ve never been much of name dropper and sadly it’s because I’ve never had any names to drop.

UNTIL NOW.

Guess who came to dinner? He has his own WIKI for goodness sake! It was a wonderful evening mashaAllah, he came bearing a stack of gifts from his beautiful wife, and the kids just adored him.

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BEFORE

Farhad: Do you think I can call him Wal or Wally?

Tasmiya: You are NOT calling him “Wal” or “Wally” or anything else. He’s WRITTEN A BOOK! People called “Wally” play rugby league (not union) and they DON’T WRITE BOOKS.

Farhad: What about QWALID like Talib KWELI? (obscene language warning)

Tasmiya: No!

Farhad: Awwww!

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Tasmiya: I dare you to stand near the arrival gate with a sign when you pick him up from the airport.

Farhad: You’re on.

The sign?:

“SUSAN’S HUSBAND”

Farhad actually did it, much to the amusement of Waleed and many other passengers disembarking.

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DURING

Tasmiya: Let Uncle Waleed show you what…is it ok if they call you “Uncle?”

Waleed: Sure, I don’t mind what they call me.

Tasmiya (thinking): Oh dear God, please don’t let Farhad call him “Wal.”

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AFTER

4 year old: Hey, remember when Uncle Woolley came and he drew the Batman sign?

Tasmiya: Yes, I do remember. It was really nice, wasn’t it? You know his name is Waleed.

4 year old: Uncle WILLY? His name is WILLY? HIS NAME IS WILLY??!!

Tasmiya: No, WaleeeeeD.

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You’re pretty alright, Susan’s Husband.

You know what I’m talking about, right? There are children who cry for no apparent reason - most of the time they don’t even know why they are teary or angry or upset. Then there are those rare ones who seem to know exactly what is wrong, be able to verbalise it, sure they have a cry but quickly they move on - happy that their feelings have been heard and acknowledged.

My four year old is one such child.

An example:

D: So when Wudsie died then we only had Adam.

Tasmiya: Yes Adam was all by himself.

D: Then Noodles came. But if Adam dies then Noodles will be by himself and then if Noodles dies then we will have no cats.

Tasmiya: That’s right. No more cats. Unless we decide we want another one.

D: I don’t want another one.

Tasmiya: That’s ok then.

D: (Beginning to sob) I want Wud-you back. I want Wud-you to come back.

Tasmiya: Oh my darling. He can’t come back. I can’t bring him back.

D: (More heartfelt weeping) I loved him so much! Adam was always mean to him and Wud-you was so nice.

Tasmiya: (Hugging him and crying too) Yeah, Adam was very mean, wasn’t he?

D: It isn’t fair! Wudsie was the nice cat!

Tasmiya: No. It isn’t fair. You miss him don’t you? We all miss him. He was a wonderful cat.

D: Yes. I miss him so much.

D: Can I have a chocolate?

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The finality of death covered? Check!

Life goes on regardless covered? Check!

The unfairness of death covered? Check!

Chocolate heals what ails you - Check!

Honestly, would you just say it already? “I’m sorry” is going the same way as “another shrimp on the barbie” or “flamin’ galah” - words never uttered by real Australians.

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Hey, did you hear about Frank?

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Nah, mate what happened?

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Some bloke barged into his house and ransacked the whole place; stole his TV, his video camera and his car!

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How do you know that? Were you even there?! Who is teaching you all this bullsh*t?!

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Not very Christian of you, Tony.

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F**K OFF!

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Would you two just knock it off?

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Actually, no - carry on. It makes me look good.Where’s Brendan?

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Who? Ohh..yeah Brendan..here he comes, with Frank.

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Frank, mate. Ummm. Yeah…So..How are ….Umm. On behalf of all of us, sorry about what happened to you. Having all your crap stolen. That’s awful.

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Yeah, really sorry.

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Yeah, thanks for that, Kev. They stole everything I owned, man.

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Frank, I really take offense to you saying that they STOLE stuff from you. I mean, they might have actually been trying to HELP you. Did you ever think of that??

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Umm..no I didn’t actually th…

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Well, I’m not sorry. I didn’t do anything to ya. IT WASN’T MY FAULT. I’M NOT FRIGGIN’ SORRY, OK? He’s not f**king saying sorry on my behalf! I’m not sorry.

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I’ve only just arrived so I’m not clued up on the whole thing…So what words did you actually use there, Kev? Look, Frank, I’m not sure if I’m saying sorry along with Kev. It really depends on the WORDING..You know what I mean? I’m not sure…. I’m not very sure of anything actually.

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Yeah ok, whatevs. Does anyone have a few bucks they can spare for the bus fare? Or can I get a ride with someone? I have to get to work and I have no transport.

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I said sorry, Frank. I didn’t say I was going to HELP you or give you any money. Geeze.

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Yeah…so..”sorry but no help?” Is that what we’re saying?

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Hello?

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Anyone?

Husband and I agree on most aspects of child rearing - we believe there are much better and kinder disciplinary tools than smacking although we have both smacked the children on rare occasions; TV is while an excellent babysitter and child controller not a substitute for quality time spent with loved ones; the children are not allowed to speak to anyone (least of all us) with disrespect; after breakfast you MUST have a shower before you can play etc etc.

How we go about enforcing these various rules is a whole other story. You see, my children know that when I say, “no more chocolate” or, “that’s enough TV for today,” no amount of whinging, crying, tantruming is going to change my mind. We ALL however, know that if we push husband far enough he will eventually cave.

The children were doing their usual whinging for another episode of Kim Possible when in exasperation, husband began rummaging in the drawer for pen and paper. I was in the kitchen listening.

“Right! Here is what we are going to do. You guys are watching one more episode. ONE more. And then finished. You are going to write it down on this piece of paper - No more Kim Possible. Write it down, please Z. Then you are both going to sign it, please.”

Silence.

“Ok. So now this piece of paper says that you have agreed to only watch one more episode. So you are not allowed to whinge and cry for more, ok guys?”

After starting the show, he waltzed into the kitchen with a smug grin on his face, holding the piece of paper.

“There. I have it on paper. A contract! Now they can’t whinge.”

I collapsed into hysterics.

“They don’t have any grasp on the concept of a CONTRACT and that it’s legally binding. And besides, it isn’t even legally binding since they aren’t adults. So that means it’s their guardian’s responsibility - meaning YOURS!”

“Shush!”

I had to eat my words. The boys stayed true to their contract and didn’t ask for any more time in front of the television.

Husband 1/ Wife 0

Proudly brought to you by 4 year old:

“Actually, mum. I was only joking when I said I wanted more…”

“My stomach hurts.”

“I didn’t say I wanted this!!” When in actually fact, the other 4 in household are sure he did.

“I’ll just have toast and maple syrup.”

“So…even if I don’t finish this, I still get dessert? Cool!” Umm..No.

“This part has gone rotten.” In the time it’s taken to get from the pot to the plate?

“Actually, I wasn’t hungry when I started eating.”

“Do I have to finish all of this??”

“But I already ate at lunchtime!”

Him: (incoherent mumble)

Her: What did you say?

Him: Oh, nothing. I was just doing my usual passive-aggressive thing.

Her: (upset) But I’m supposed to be the passive-aggressive one and YOU’RE the one supposed to be annoyed by ME!

Him: No, it’s the other way around, don’t you remember?

Her: NO! I don’t remember that.

Him: OK! FINE! YOU CAN BE THE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE ONE!

Her: No, it’s ok. I don’t mind. You can be it.

Him: Oh dear, no. I’d hate to take away from your calling.

Her: No. Actually I insist. You be the passive-aggressive one. I’ll just have to find another personality disorder.

But that’s really ok.

I don’t mind.

Don’t worry about it.

*sighs*

Him: *sighs*

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EVERYBODY! ROCK YOUR BODY!

Yes, backstreet’s I’m back!

Alright!

I think I needed a bit of time away from computer stuff and I thank each and every one of you who left comments and sent emails and text messages (well, it was only one text message but it was much appreciated and made me feel very loved.)

You guys are awesome.

So buckle up..it’s going to be a bumpy ride..arms in vehicle at all times…no smoking etc etc

From this article: 

close to 70 per cent of young people ………said they felt aligned to the party of their parents.

Husband has warned me countless times not to thrust my political views onto my innocent children but sometimes I just can’t help myself. I had no idea how much attention they pay my spontaneous mutterings until today:

4 year old (listening to radio in car): Who is this man who keeps talking all the time?

Me: It’s Kevin Rudd.

4 year old: Why is he talking?

Me: Because he wants to be the Prime Minister. You know how John Howard is our Prime Minister? Well Kevin Rudd wants to be Prime Minister.

4 year old: Oh no!

Me: Well, it wouldn’t be that bad a thing to have a different Prime Minister.

4 year old: Because John Howard lies?

Me: Well…yes, John Howard sometimes doesn’t say the whole truth but so do other…

4 year old: and he doesn’t care about the people?

Me (secretly beaming with pride): Um…. Let’s just change the radio station, shall we?

Sorry husband, we have another potential Greenie in the family.

Actually no - not very sorry at all.