Spike Scott

Where There’s A Bear In There… is Spike.

Posted on August 27th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: one year old.

There’s a bear in there,
And a chair as well.
People with games,
And stories to tell… well, story time ain’t his favourite. Story time will actually get him off his dainty freckle and moving for the remote. But every other single “paste, paste, paste” and “Can you jump too?” filled second, he remains glued – eyes front, dummy in gob, smirk on face.

What a lucky generation he belongs to. PlaySchool is on tap. Recorded on the DVR/TiVo available 24/7, copied to DVD and available on tap at Nana and Papa’s house, not to mention the ones that are popped on Mumma’s iPhone. Yeah, that last one’s a doooozy! Bless you Steven Jobs. heh!

In my day… well, PlaySchool was on Mon-Fri at 3pm and if you missed it, you missed it! How did mother’s of the 70’s 80’s survive? I’m guessing Mrs Jobs was a nightmare in crinoline. How else could you explain it?

There’s so much crap on tv for the kids to be sucked in by. Bucket loads. So, we’re SO glad our little ratbag is casting a discerning eye. PlaySchool is the only thing he will stop for. The only thing that can hold his attention for the full 26 minutes. Nothing else cuts the mustard. Only PlaySchool.

Not that I have anything per se, against The Wiggles or Sesame Street. (If I have to choose, it will be Sesame Street.) But either seems innocuous enough. Not like the dander-raising virulent hate I have for High Five, Raggs The Dog (I don’t get it, his dog friend is in a wheelchair – wouldn’t they have just cut his leg off?) Dora the Explorer, Thomas the Tanked Engine or Jimmy BumFluff in Lycra Sing Moronically At You for 30 Minutes - no, if the kid had leanings towards any of that crap we would have listed him on eBay now with a low starting price. Yes, that stuff is retarded and treats kids like sugar fuelled morons (ok, so they know their audience) … It’s just the pox-filled over commercialisation of all the above that makes me want to punch shop assistants and maim the small children who whine full tilt, “Nooo Mummy, the Wiggles Cheese!” Ok, a BIG punch for Mummy too because really woman, if you give in to that shit, you’ve made your own bed. You can’t go a-n-y-w-h-e-r-e without being force fed a Wiggle Cup and Razor or a Dora The Explorer I’m Lost Kit Or Thomas The Tank Engine Ear Medicine.

PlaySchool doesn’t play that way, Jeeves. If they need something to play with, they make it! You don’t have a PlaySchool Mobile Phone you have a Juice Box, a straw and 5 yards of sticky tape. There is no Patent pending PlaySchool Fire Truck, there’s a VCR box stacked on a Kellogs box, beside a new toaster box from next door, four fruit cup lids and a clip on bike light. Paint that lot red, stick Big Ted in the ‘drivers seat’ and voila! You’re fighting fires with ironically combustible equipment! Wanna go fishing? Get out your blue crepe paper, bunches of marine coloured wool and cut out some paper plate fish – the next thing you know, you’re Jacques Cousteau.

We started making our own baby clothes when A) we couldn’t find any cute baby clothes that weren’t pink ‘n precious or blue ‘n bullshit. And B) when we couldn’t find ANTYHING UNBRANDED!!!! Going to buy this kid a pair of shoes, pj’s, t.shirt, life saving vest is like an exercise in futility. I can get one with Elmo on it. Or Charlee from High Five. Even nappies are branded! “Billy-Bob can only shit in Blue’s Clues.”

So gawd bless the ABC (not something I often say) and all who sail in ‘er. Thank you for PlaySchool. THANK YOU for Simon Burke on PlaySchool. Ah, the days Simon is on it’s a little something for Spike, and a little something for Mumma. Hmmm, Twinkle Twinkle would make SO much more sense if he sang it with his shirt off…

Note to self, call ABC with winning suggestion. Again.

Spike’s Mum xxoo

3 comments.

So You Think You Can (steal a) DANCE (class)?

Posted on February 27th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: one year old.

Across the laneway there is a dance studio. The music can get pretty loud.

Our boy is drawn, like a rat to the Pied Piper to… dance.

He remains, the whitest baby alive.

3 comments.

May We Do Your Taxes, Please?

Posted on February 19th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: one year old.

Finally, the kid earns his keep.

0 comments.

Stats Report

Posted on January 19th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: one year old.

We sent Spike off for his regular maintenance. Had the tyres kicked and a quick look under the hood last week. (Only 3 months late… it’s like he’s baby #4!)

Results came back which show he’s at just under the 50th percentile for weight. 85% for height and bless ‘im 95% for head size. “His father is American, isn’t he?” You bet yer fruity arse he is!

Daddy says, “according to the statistics, you’re a balloon on a stick, son.”

He’s still got blonde ringlets that Shirley Temple would kill for and we all know she’s killed for far, far less. The eyes remain green or blueish in the right outfit. Eyelashes are like the ones a Drag Queen carries around in her make-up kit. Pale, pale skin and teeth like a vice. “NO biting!” He’s not really interested in the telly unless someone is singing or there’s music playing with just the hint of a beat. A beat he can never catch, bless his white socks. He is TOTALLY Pa’s boy (gawd, and I thought he was a suck up to Daddy!) and thinks Mardhi is hilarious when she tries to lick his face. She’s a “goo gorl!” Its true, she is. You can tell by the way she braces herself when he starts patting her.

Developmentally, he’s like every other genius baby. Walking, talking, dancing and compiling Zogby polls at an alarming clip. (doesn’t look like Hillary is going to be able to pull it off!) Currently, he’s VERY in to running into the room, pointing at you and telling you emphatically all about… stuff! Then unlike a comedian, he leaves! (great timing!) He’s still biffin’ shit off the balcony. Mac Robertson’s Lane is littered with small colourful, plastic blocks and toys. We don’t give him things now until we can determine whether or not they fit through the grill floor. Eh, it’s a living!

_______ ______

Casserole, Fugger & Meow remain firm buddies. He likes Elmo enough but he likes Elmo more when we’re holding him! He loves, loves, loves his tent and tunnel combo. (actually, I noticed Fugger’s been posted at the doorway to the smaller tent all week. He must be some kind of big black stuffed Bouncer?) It’s been remarked, on more than one Gen X’er that the tent is like the cubby house you have when you don’t have to gather all the dining chairs together and cover ‘em with a sheet off Mum and Dad’s bed. Bath time is the bees knees AND the cats meow! He plunges, dives, splashes and floats. Lucky he’s not water soluble. I did break down and buy him a high chair (thanks Ikea) mainly cause he really does need to be restrained at times! We’re eating, we eating, we’re eat… no, we’re off! After the third head wound, I caved! As for food, he will eat just about anything. Cheese of course and he loves his bickies (they’re in the cupboard, he’ll show you where) loves his cereal and yoghurt. Has been known to put away bacon and eggs on toast for brekky and is quite fond of a salad sandwich (oh the mess!). He’s been known to drink a gallon of water a day! Is not too fond of peaches or anything sweet, really. He’s pretty good about feeding himself… if I could just relax enough to let him make a dogs breakfast of my beautiful dining table!

He’s always loved to press Daddy’s nose (which causes it to beep, der!) but lately he’s discovered that pressing Daddy’s ear causes a much lower toned and therefore MUCH more hilarious beeping noise. How Ben doesn’t have a ruptured eardrum by now I’ll never know! He’s still (gathering all the wood in the house, ready to touch it) sleeping really well, TOUCH TIMBER!!!! and napping through the day. Loves his books, scribbling on paper (still quite left handed) and lately unscrewing everything in or out of the house that could possibly be, unscrewed! Lids, cupboard knobs, door jams, bottle tops, toys…

Basically, he’s just a really happy little kid and if he keeps it up, one who just might find himself off the probationary list and on to the permanent staff roster.

Til later.

Spike’s Mumma xxoo

1 comment.

Tech Support?

Posted on January 10th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: one year old.

He loves loves loves the phone. It’s a great thing to hand him when you’re really not interested in taking ‘that’ call…

Made perfect sense to me!

Spike’s Mumma xoxo

6 comments.

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