Friday, 22 April 2011

How To Be A Tomboy

Firstly, I LOVE the fact that Wikipedia has an entry for Tomboy. It does not, however, have an entry for Ultimate Tomboy. But this is what it says:
A tomboy is a girl who exhibits some characteristics and or behavior considered typical of the gender role of a boy, including the wearing of typically masculine-oriented types of clothes and engaging in games and activities that are often physical in nature, and which are considered in many cultures to be the domain of boys.
Although I agree with this entry, I've decided to do a little research myself. After studying my daughter closely for the past week or so, I have come up with this useful guide entitled How To Be A Tomboy.

Hang around with your big brother's mates to a point where they prefer you to him. Be funnier, cooler and better than him at everything. Soon you will be invited to parties and sleepovers and your brother will be left at home with only The Toddler to play with.

A tiny hint of pink is allowed, perhaps on boxer shorts but dress in football kits, anything with camouflage, Power Rangers dress up and ultimately your big brother's clothes. Choose clothes that allow you to become physically active at the drop of a hat - jeans and trainers are good, pretty dresses with sparkly party shoes are a definite no-no. Before you leave the house ask yourself "If somebody asks me to play football, am I ready to go?". If the answer is NO, then rush back and change into something more appropriate. Oh and definitely shop in the boys section.

Odds are, if you surround yourself with testosterone you're bound to hear unpleasant noises and smell unpleasant things. However have some self-respect, don't do it yourself. But laugh everytime a boy does it.

Football and cricket are cool. Try a martial art. Push your mother to let you go to wrestling club. Show your brother up by being very much better than him at everything.

Use words like "whatever" and "awesome" and "dude". Don't talk in a high pitched voice and don't be dramatic.

It's a sure thing that you will be often mistaken for being a boy.

Even though you're too little to skate board. Show off in front of the teenagers. Try dangerous stuff that makes your mother go a bit flappy. Sing Avril Lavigne's "SK8er Boy" at all times.

And run FAST. Faster than your brother who is two years older. Always make sure the boys are surprised when they are passed by a Tomboy.

Wear board shorts or all in one Spiderman costume. Sometimes wear this to go to the park.

Get down and dirty - always make sure you are grass stained. Steal a little. Tell lies. Push your dress sense to the point where it includes pyjama tops worn as shirts.

The ultimate goal of a Tomboy is to be always mistaken for a boy. Five times in one week is great. And even better if you start calling yourself MAX and only answer to this name. But above all, surprise your mother every day by pushing things even further. Only then will you be crowned Ultimate Tomboy.

Sunday, 17 April 2011

They Are Out Of School But I'm Still Learning

On Thursday I took the kids to London Zoo. Every now and again I feel the pressure to do something 'big' with them as it makes me feel better about being such a boring parent. I'm thinking that going to the zoo will make up for all the crap I usually force them to do in the school holidays such as walking the dog, trips to Sainsburys and waiting for me to get off the phone.
I cleverly met a friend who only has one child because I figured I could palm at least two off on her with the excuse that I was dealing with The Toddler. Bless her, she totally cottoned on, but was so goddamn sweet about it that at the end of the day I was practically begging her to let me take her son for the rest of the hols.

Anyway, I have learnt a few things as follows:
1. Never ever take your kids to London Zoo. It's a wonderful place but it bloody well costs a fortune. It was over 45quid just to get in, £13 to park and £15 on petrol. That was before we'd even seen any animals. Of course I didn't take anything to eat except a bag of crisps for me so it was a further £6 on rubbish chips. Ooooo and London Zoo are very clever because they tempt children away from the animals with bouncy castles, slides and facepainting which of course parents have to pay for. Plus I would like to find the man who installed the toddler helicopter ride by the monkeys, he owes me £4 in 50ps.
2. Never ever take your kids to London Zoo unless you want to see more than you expected. And you have to answer questions about stuff like this:

3. Never ever take your kids to London Zoo and expect them to be grateful. We were there for five hours, they had sweets, they had ice cream and yet at the end of the day they said it was boring and please could we go to the park.
4. Never ever sit near the clearly marked toilet area in the Animals In Action display. Unless you want your Tweenager's coat to be permanently stained with parrot poo.
5. Do not be surprised when your daughter is mistaken three times for a boy. Especially when she has tucked all her hair into a flat cap and is wearing this stunning outfit:

Apparently the Zoo are planning a Tomboy Enclosure for 2012

Fortunately, I did learn something actually useful and that is Symbiosis. Which is the living together of different species. Like between the yucca plant and the yucca moth - the insect fertilizes the plant and the plant supplies food for the baby moths. Neither can live without the other and it is basically what goes on within my family between the adults and the children.
Symbiosis can be divided into three main categories which can be illustrated within the Smith Animal Kingdom. I tried to explain this to the Zoo Keeper heading up the talk, but she looked rather like she wanted to put me in a cage with the chimps.
PARASITISM is what goes on between The Husband and Me. The host (THE HUSBAND) is always being exploited in some way but so slowly that the host's health only deteriorates little by little, meaning that the parasite (ME) can exploit over a long period of time. The parasite only spends a portion of its life in the relationship, usually to reproduce.
MUTUALISM is when both parties benefit and that is between Me and The Toddler. I constantly use The Toddler as the reason why I am not getting off my backside doing anything worthwhile and he therefore gets to spend quality time with his mama. We are both very happy within our set up.
COMPETITION is where both are harmed which is pretty much what goes on between The Tweenager and The Tomboy. For example, when two trees grow closely together and compete for light above ground, each therefore gets less light so they don't perform as well as if they grew on their own. I don't really need to explain that any further.

Anyway at least that's my good parenting deed done until the summer holidays. I'm not looking forward to the next trip out but I can't wait to see what I'm likely to learn. In the meantime, I'll carry on living in the zoo in my own home.

Friday, 8 April 2011

Family Feng Shui

I want to move house. I am desperate to move house. This house is okay but it needs stuff doing to it and it is getting on my nerves and even if we sorted/tidied/decorated, it would still drive me mad. But there is another reason to my wanting to sell. I strongly feel that if we move house, it will improve our home karma. Our Family Feng-shui if you like. For example, things like this happen to me on a daily basis:
Do not ever let your dog play with a juggling ball.
You are likely to find out what it is made of.

Feng-shui is an ancient form of aesthetics. It is basically that if you put things in the right place then you will get positivity. Having dead flowers in a vase for two weeks is not very good feng-shui. Neither is a burnt pan that you are avoiding washing up.

Obviously, I am not very good at feng-shuing my house so the family energy is often a bit negative. You will never ever find me installing a flowing water feature in a bright, clutter free room. Or placing incense sticks strategically in south-east corners. Apparently, to bring harmony to my family I need some smiley pictures, crap free cupboards and a fountain. I have read that wood is very good for the family although I'm not sure dog-chewed bits of branches count. So, as I cannot be arsed with any of this, I want to move house.

The Husband, of course, is opposed to the idea. Probably because I have no money and he will have to pay for the move plus any increase in our mortgage. He wants to extend this house. But by doing any home improvements, I believe we are just extending our bad family feng shui. I think a new house, fresh start, will bring us harmony. The Husband says "That's a load of old cock" but I say "It will create a happy and beneficial energy" to which The Husband says "Try tiding up once in a while and put your energy to some good instead of Facebooking".

I do not think I will win this one. Even if I bring in an Oriental Master. The Husband controls the purse strings. I am thinking the Husband can feng-shui off.

Monday, 4 April 2011

Miniblog for Mother's Day

There came a point yesterday where I had to ask my mummy friends on Facebook to stop bragging about what a lovely Mother's Day they were having. You see after my coffee in bed (cold, brought by The Husband) and my toast (cold, ate by The Toddler), it wasn't really a day to remember. I reminded the kids that they had made me cards at school. The Tweenager's was the best, he had written a poem which included the lines:

I am quite often heard trumpeting around the village in a tutu

The Husband was in a wind-up mood. He thought he was being hilarious when, in fact, he was being a pain-in-the-ass. His contribution to Mother's Day was giving me some flowers from Asda (reduced now £1) and talking me through what I had contributed to our three children:
  1. THE TWEENAGER: Moaning, asking the same question over&over, impatience.
  2. THE TOMBOY: Hot headiness, shouting, weird dress sense.
  3. THE TODDLER: Neediness.
We had the usual bickering, wrestling, answering back, stroppiness, crying, foot stamping, sarcasm and parenting pearls of wisdom from me. Maybe Clintons should stock up on "Happy Same As Every Other Day" cards.