Thursday, April 19, 2007

To Zoe and Copperwitchy

Blogger as usual is being a piece of unmitigated crap, so I can't link, but they're both in my list over there >>

Zoe, love to the little fella, may those hips align and be nice to your bundle of love. Bear sends hugs to her potential future husband.

Coppermum, you remind me that however long a Bear lasts in this world, I'll enjoy and treasure every moment. Hugs to you too from our corner of the burbs. He's a handsome boy, your lad. It's the journey that matters, the smiles you gave him are the best things, the real things that make a life worthwhile.

Damn.

Bless you both. Bless all mums, including she on the couch downstairs patiently supplying the evening breastacchino to buggles. I must, once again, depart...

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Buggles Vignettes

Waiting, on a poo, for to carry it home (sung to Waiting on an Angel, with feel). Over a week now and there've only been 2 small, moussy excretions. A Bear is mighty constipated. The potential energy welling within is fearsome.

Conversations extend. In particular she makes lively noises when I sing to her. Dorky shoulder movements to accompany the songs go down a treat as well. Her bald, goatee'd dad standing over her dancing like Pete Garrett and singing 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' prompts quasi-giggles.

When her face pulls into a smile I lose it. When I leave in the morning and she twists almost 180 degrees to watch me, with an anxious look on her face, I lose it. There have been some late starts recently.

I usually miss bath time. Total contact per day is about 20 minutes in the morning, 5 to 10 of them with her off the boob and playing, and about 30 or so minutes late at night when she's feeding while half asleep.

We allowed her out of either of our sights for the first time since hospital. There was an incident where the nurses took her out to weigh her or somesuch. I nearly had cardiac arrest with images of her being dropped, exchanged for another similar looking bub then sent interstate, having organs removed and sold on Ebay etc. The nurses did NOT succeed in removing her for a nanosecond after that.

We waved goodbye, as her extremely trustworthy (and indeed trusted) uncle and aunt wheeled her off in the pram. I walked back inside. I started walking around in circles while beloved patted me on the arm. Then it all just came out and I didn't stop bawling hysterically until about 3 minutes before they arrived back. From a 10 minute trip to the shops.

Sanity is just a construct.

I trust a few people in this world, but I know no-one loves my Bear the way beloved and I do. Still, she was fine. I've let her out of our sights since, I'm chilling. Not quickly.

I realise my mum has always been critical. I'm listening to renditions of what has happened during the day while she, beloved and Bear are hanging out at home. My first reaction is 'So?' The reason is I've gotten used to such constant digging. It's probably shaped me in ways that aren't wonderful. Words are had, criticism subsides.

Mao has become exceedingly affectionate. Minh-Minh however has taken to sitting at the top of the stairs, on the ledge in the visitors' room or on our bed when we aren't in it. She waits, giving us looks. When I pick her up she purrs instantly, it's a switch being flicked. As with a Bear, I wish I had more time for my furkids.

Still a bit of a nutter- watched Insight, some verminous trash were peddling falsehoods in defence of advertising, especially sexualised advertising, aimed at young girls. I hurled invective at them and made all sorts of rash promises to have every one of them locked up before a Bear hits the tweens. Offered beloved my unwelcome ideas as to what I would do if some West Coast player sledged me with graphic, paedophilic comments about family members. I think my suggested response involved use of thumbs and permanent incapacitation. And why did the tribunal throw the charges out after only 10 minutes? What sort of monkeys think they can make a decision on something where evidence is in contention in 10 effing minutes?

A Bear cares not. She slumbers. It is time she enjoys a (just before) midnight snack. I will have a single malt and watch my girls, at peace with the world.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Kevin takes bridge out behind dithering Johnny

A potential masterstroke.

Allow me to jettison all humility. Way back a few eons ago I predicted that the IR laws might just be the bridge too far that ends the Howard dynasty. The arrogant attack on the people who've delivered him power over Labor.

Well this could be the counterpoint that completes the melody. Infuriating to the hardcore unionists, no doubt, but a timely move that will almost certainly win Rudd more votes than it loses.

After all, who's a hardcore left winger on IR issues going to back between the final 2? Howard? Even the Greens don't really stake this out as priority territory, they can see what being too close to the CFMEU does for Labor's forest policy.

Rudd may have wanted this confrontation in any event, to assert himself and make clear that he, and not Combet, is running for PM. He may also be planning to pick up where Crean left off and work at bringing the power of rank and file party members closer to that of the old guard.

Or he may not.

Because the strongest reason for setting out a moderate, centrist policy on IR is to blatantly take the option of retreat away from Howard.

Howard has been preparing the ground for such a move, talking of being open to change, of 'listening', acknowledging his problems in the polls. He'll have realised by now that Workchoices was strategically unwise, and he doesn't like the idea of going out on a loser.

So there he was, bridge too far, starting to edge backwards and "whoosh"; Kevin's landed and it's too late.

Centre ground. A reasonable policy. Unfair dismissal in small businesses but only once you've proven yourself. Secret ballots- whatever could be wrong with that?

Knight takes Rook.

So I get a few minutes to blog

And blogger doesn't work properly, no editing tools, everything moving at 2 nanseconds per decade.

Thank you blogger, fuck you very much.