On the weekend my four year old was tasked with cleaning his room.
As always, he tried everything possible to get out of it, and became distracted quite a few times.
The more he continued to procrastinate, the more my wife and I intensified our directions.
It got to the point where he wasn’t allowed to leave his room, or play with ANYTHING!
A few moments later I walked past to see how he was progressing. I was surprised to see him standing in the middle of his room with his eyes half closed talking to himself.
I just had to ask what he was doing.
He responded, “I’m wishing”. I just had to then follow-up, “What are you wishing for?”.
Yesterday my eldest son and I attended Brisbane City Council’s “Kids Day Out” held at the Mount Coot-tha (pronounced Kuta) Botanical Gardens. I finally learned how to say it after we dropped into the Summit to quickly catch the view since we were in the vicinity.
As we turned off the highway we got an indication that the event was very popular, as a volley of cars were parking in a makeshift car park not far from the highway.
Despite I think it being the first time the event was held, the day was quite a success. It was also advertised for the attempted (and successfully completed!) World’s Largest Rain Dance. It was good to see the 234 people walking around in a large circle trying – unsuccessfully – to bring on some rain under the guidance of local Aboriginal dancers. The record is to be sent onto the Guinness Book people in the next week or so. The Murri guy on the microphone hinted that someone else will likely try to take the record at the first opportunity, so we’ll just come back to beat them again.
Big hits on the day were the fruit bat exhibit (I have no idea why); the brass band (they even played Bob the Builder and a Wiggles megamix); a clown called Smarty Pants; and making his own clay creation. Looking around at all clay sculptured bush animals and scenery – which was the day’s theme – I’m pretty confident my guy was the only one to make a police car, complete with gumnut wheels.
It was also good to see a few real native animals on display – although they seemed too docile. I felt they were probably dreaming of escaping into the rainforest away from all the patting hands. The display had various lizards, green tree frogs, a tawny frog mouth who must have had a few coffees, and amazingly a fresh water crocodile. I patted the croc, but the 4 year old wasn’t game – despite the security of a curl of sticky tape locking down his/her mouth of little sharp teeth.
I bumped into a colleague and his family there. Interestingly they have quite an outgoing daughter around the same age as my son. We thought they’d immediately hit it off. But nope, they nodded through our introductions, then happily went their own ways. This evening they met again at my touch footy game, where we got the reaction I had expected yesterday. They played very nicely, and even had some beautiful hugs. In fact, by the end of the night my son was saying how much he loved her. And the goodbyes were quite sad.
The past few weeks has seen a fair amount of attention given to the plight of Australia’s elderly. The federal opposition have been applying pressure in parliament over how inadequate their pensions are.
Possibly in answer to this, news broke today of the arrest of a 67 year old, along with a 74 year old accomplice for dealing the illicit drug ‘Ice’.
I wonder if the pair will include in their defense that the scant pension has left them with no other choice but to begin their million dollar operation.
They solidify a discrete piece of shared knowledge and are passed down over time, yet still new ones are coined to apparently describe some unique insight or guidance to our lives.
The problem is there are just so many cliches at hand, the moral (and therefore usefulness) of each one has lost almost all value. In fact some cliches are in clear conflict with others, yet they both have their own pride of place. And it can be entirely appropriate to drop either one, despite them providing incompatible advice.
I thought a register of contradictory cliches would make an interesting read. Following is the list I have started, and will continue to maintain:
Slow and steady wins the race | The early bird gets the worm
Lead by example | Do as I say, not as I do
Never look a gift-horse in the mouth | Beware of Greeks bearing gifts
Strike while the iron is hot | Revenge is a dish best served cold
Distance makes the heart grow fonder | Familiarity breeds contempt
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks | You’re never too old / Age is nothing but a number
Many hands make light work | Too many cooks spoil the broth
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link | Strength in numbers / The whole is greater than the sum of all parts
To know a little about a lot | To put too many eggs in one basket / To spread yourself too thinly
You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube | Don’t die with the music in you
Can’t see the forest for the trees | Can’t see the trees for the forest
Two wrongs don’t make a right | Fight fire with fire
The weater was perfect except for the wind playing havoc with the speed boats. There was a good festive atmosphere, and the visitor numbers seemed large. They even had a shuttle bus service taking people back to other parking at the show grounds. For once, I managed to fluke a great park close to the esplanade – where most of the action was. To make the sheer odds even more bamboozling, I managed a perfect tight reverse park on the first attempt.
There was a good assortment of older style cars on display. My boy has a fascination with shiny cars which was evident as he said “Wow, look at that one” to each and every car along the line.
Within a fraction of a second of us crossing the road to gander down at the waterfront area where the kids activites were centred, my son had sussed each and every ride and put in a class-action of requests. I caved in, and he did way more than I had initially wanted.
He rode a merry-go round train (a big hit as he was in Thomas!), and played on a jumping castle. Far above all this was the ‘actual train ride’ we went on. It was actually a converted ride-on lawn mower with some flimsy carriages in tow. There are a few places around Brisbane where they have these going on occasion. They’ve unfortunately become a mandatory thing – even if we caught a nice city train to get into the event. Unfortunatley on the train ride I fumbled the big balloon that he scavenged when it was flying around without an owner.
My son's side-show alley prize
One of the real highlights of the day was his great success at side-show alley. Actually there were only two games available, so it was more of a side-show gutter than an alley. He chose the classic ping-pong balls down the clown’s mouth. When I asked the carnie what the cost was, he mentioned he had to put it up as he’d been losing all the medium-sized prizes. Not that it worried us. With five consecutive number threes my son won the major prize!! I was all set to take him with me to the Casino to keep the good luck rolling when I realised we would get one of the big, much sought after stuffed animals, pictured to the right. Next to him is a standard Whitepages phone book to indicate the size. Despite it being a pretty dodgy Winnie the Pooh knock-off, it was one hell of a trophy.
It’s just not fair. I have been trying to win a major prize for probably more than 25 years, yet my son wins one before his 4th birthday. What’s even more impressive is it was probably only his second try, I only introduced him to the poor suffering clowns at the Ekka last month.
The umbrella piece of art
Further around the kids area there was an activity area where some were trying their hand at circus acrobatics and activities. And next to this were a band of kids in technicoloured protective clothing painting their own little paper umbrellas. I subtely suggested this to my son. This was partly to bring down my son’s levels of excitement, as well slow the furious spending I was doing trying to keep up. It turned out to be a fantastic thing to do. And I think the resulting masterpiece speaks for itself.
We fare-welled the festival, and drove along the esplanade to my brother’s place not far away. On the way, the distinctive yellow of coast guard boats not far out to sea grabbed my attention. We drove down to the water front to make out what they were there for. Although the figures were small we spotted two people getting dragged from the water into the two rescue boats. If you squinted your eyes real hard you could also see there was a boat they were getting pulled from. Once the people were aboard, the coast guard started to head off in the very wavy seas. To my surprise the rapidly sinking boat was getting towed, and it didn’t take long for it to resurface. Just after the danger was averted, and the boat was impressively raised again, a Channel 9 news helicopter arrived on the scene. I could almost hear the camera man’s “D’oh” at only just missing the action.
It was certainly something you don’t see every day, which capped off a great day down at the peninsula.
My son and I made the effort to get into the Queen Street Mall to see the Olympian’s parade (wearing as much Australian green and gold clothing as we could find).
And I must say, I’m so glad we did.
I’m a regular to these kinds of events, but this one seemed extra special. It may have been because I was able to share the passion for sporting accolades with my little one. But it could also have been that we appeared a lot closer to the action this time round. I’d say we were one to two metres away from the stars as they drove by on the top of a shiny 4WD ute, or walking by. Walking was generally for the lesser known athletes or, heavens above those who may not have won a medal.
It was hard not to get emotional as they went by with my three year old on my shoulders yelling, ‘Well done, you did really really good’. It was really a special moment.
The big hit with the crowd – around us at least – were the explosive streamers the Olympians seemed to have in ample supply. I assume they had plenty. We were standing around 40m into the procession, and there didn’t appear to be any rationing going on with them being shot off every few seconds. My son got an impressive collection of streamers to dangle proudly around his neck like his own little medals.
In stark contrast to Channel 7’s Olympic coverage, Stephanie Rice only passed us once. We half-expected her to go past in every second car.
At the request of my son, which I supported whole-heartedly, we avoided the presentations. This also made us miss our Lord Mayor, Campbell Newman giving today’s hero Ms. Rice the keys to the city.
Instead we made our way around the massive crowd to the little one’s new favourite place in the city, the Brisbance Square (City Council) library. On the first floor they have a great space for children to be themselves while accessing some great resources. Despite the mass of children’s books on display, my boy prefers to walk past a more grown-up section on the way in and grab a handful of magazines devoted to people with far too much interest in model trains to be healthy. It keeps him happy. And I’m always able to find enough mags to keep me entertained. On top of all this there are loads of spots available to read with good views of the Brisbane River to conjur up some daydreaming.
It’s always a good day in the city when there’s a memorable occasion such as today, particularly when Brisbane turns on its best weather.
After an attempted exit on Friday afternoon, we had to wait three long days at the Royal and Women’s Brisbane Hospital awaiting our second son to show himself.
Lewis eventually arrived Sunday night 07/09/2008 just before 8pm, becoming an unbeatable Father’s Day present.
It was around 30 food-deprived hours after the first discussed plans for my wife’s caesarean, but you can’t knock Queensland Health and the fine people who work for them.
And yes, someone has already coined the potential nickname for Lewis, in “Wally”. We saw that one coming Myles (or “1.6 km”) away.
Our latest little guy’s quite big, coming in at 4.105 kg (just over 9 lbs). So Mum is thankful in some ways avoiding delivery the natural way. Mum and he are doing extremely well. In fact Lewis had his happy, inquisitive-looking eyes open at the first sign of light. And perhaps a testament to his happiness, he weed – with quite an impressive gush – all over the poor lady trying to clean him up.
It’s been a very different experience having a slightly over-term baby, compared to Myles who arrived at around 33 weeks. For one, he has those fantastically wrinkly hands and feet (Exhibit A) that look like they’ve come from an extremely tiny 90 year old. And he’s also ready for action. He was searching for milk less than 30 minutes post escape. And he’s been drinking impressively ever since. I should add, “ever since” here means a little over 24 hours.
My first son was at my parents’ for the birth. He met his little brother this morning, which was just beautiful. As he arrived he was straight to the point. He asked to cuddle and hold Lewis, and if he could see where they cut Mummy.
My wife and I have spent most of the last two days at the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital. Yesterday afternoon she started getting the first signs that our baby’s coming. So off we went.
After a wait in one room, then another room where a few traces could be performed she was admitted to the ward. The labour was not forthcoming, so they thought it was a better venue than our place for playing the waiting game. Unfortunately this didn’t turn out to be entirely correct. Amongst the three others who share the same ward, two are very loud and constantly talking about their issues with what appears to be their utter moron partners or relatives; and the other snores EXTREMELY LOUD, all night.
Hopefully the prescribed sleeping tablets will do the trick tonight, as tomorrow morning is showtime! My wife’s name has been added to the emergency board to get a caesarisan section at the first opening – between 9 & 10:30am. It almost sounded like a tradie’s timeframe when the young doctor said it to us, except that she was so articulate and educated.
Unfortunately this timing means this will be the first time my son and I will miss participating in the Bridge to Brisbane fun run. It will be the first time we’ll miss it since he was delivered in the same way (caesarian) at the same hospital in the same month, just shy of four years ago. In fact, this ward bed is probably 10 metres from the last one.
While the hospital is a beautiful place where babies are brought into this world, there is a lot of things to get you down. For one, as you enter there is always a mass of carcinogens from patients that felt the need to have another cancer stick. The ugliest thing in the world is certainly a heavily pregnant mother smoking. It’s not nice seeing anybody smoke, but knowing that an innocent baby is stuck in there getting the same poisons going into their blood makes me sick just thinking about it. Let alone having to navigate your way around them to get into the hospital.
And in an unfortunate irony, it’s hard to miss seeing at least one amputee in the resulting unfresh air puffing away. I can’t help but wonder if smoking may have caused the loss of their limb.
It’s also not nice to see and experience the tremendous, and nearly unsatisfied demands on the health system. We probably spent 90% of our time in the hospital waiting for people just to get back to us. There was more than one example where staff said they were trying to get back to us but they were swamped. I know it’s not their fault, they’re trying their best. The nature of the industry means there will always be some times when they’re flat-out. And unfortunately the current situation in the South East of Queensland is that the demand is increasing at a rate that exceeds our capabilities at satisfying it.
At least the extended waiting time allowed me to read the 100s of pages which made up two of our major weekend papers. I rarely get enough time on the weekend to finish the sections I put aside to read – let alone the whole thing. So that part has been good.
And mum and baby are doing well, so tomorrow morning we’ll get to meet the latest Brinkworth – who we’d call “Boody Gum Gum” if my first son had his way.
I have no issues with this at all. The ground at Milton is one of my favourite sporting venues. I’ve experienced some great sporting moments sitting in this amazing stadium. There’s also been some not so great games, such as the 20 to 4 qualifying final loss to St. George on the 9th of September 2006. I bring up that Saturday night, cause my disappointment made it to the television coverage when the daft camera man focused in on me looking dejected with my head in my hands. Who cares, the season ended well.
What strikes me as odd though with the plaque going to Suncorp Stadium is that it is one of around 180 plaques being given out around the country.
Why so many?
It’s deserving for each significant home ground for each notable, or feeder rugby league club, but surely 180 is going beyond this measure.
This week Brisbane held its Riverfestival. It’s an annual event where the River City celebrates its river. There are always a host of events, some of them obviously more entertaining than others.
The highlight for most is Riverfire, which is the city’s largest fireworks display and double F1-11 dump ‘n burn.
This year my son and I set off to view it from around Wilson’s Outlook at New Farm. I think we’ve found our vantage point for all future Riverfires. While there was a large crowd, it wasn’t overflowing, and you could easily see the whole thing without people in front obscuring your view.
I didn’t take our camera. Included below is a great slow exposure by Kane Gledhill (published to FlickR) which shows the first F1-11 dump ‘n burn through to the following fireworks.
Riverfire 2008 picture by Kane
Any large bridge adds a lot of dazzle and opportunities for a fireworks display. While predictable, the sequential shooting of fireworks from one side to the other looks extremely impressive. And we picked up that the rainfall from the bridge looked amazing too when the crowd in front of us let out some “ooohs” and “aaaaaghs” while there was a bright aura beaming up to us yet no fireworks above.
It was a great night, and always worth the effort of going in.
