Spike Scott

Cold, White, BLISS

Posted on August 29th, 2010 by Spike.
Categories: 3 yrs.

He be his mother’s son. This also harkens close to Daddy’s Colorado heart. Our eldest boy can NOT get enough of the snow.

All snow is good snow. Right? You betcha!

Lake Mountain is just a little over an hour outside of the city centre and the snowfall has been gorgeous. Melbourne has had an extended, cold, ski season this year (due to Global Warming, The Ozone Layer, Barack Obama and/or Our Own Hung Parliament) so we traipsed up the mountain for a frolic or two. Praps, three. Ten. Ten frolics, tops. Plus a whizzy. Ya gotta have a whizzy!

Spike hit the slopes, grabbed a handful of snow and piffed the biggest snowball he could manage. Morrison looked on with suspicion… suspicion bordering on contempt. He would not be having any of this ’snow’ carry on. Just direct him to the chips and he’ll forget this whole incident ever happened.

Spike on the other hand threw himself on a sled (Daddy “it’s not a toboggan, a toboggan is at least a metre long and blah blah blah [insert actual snow talk]“) and whizzed up and down the mountain (Daddy – “It’s not a mountain. It’s a hill if anything. Mountains are X metres high and have altitude [insert more hillist comments]“) at great speeds without regard for anyone’s safety, least of all his own.

He was retrieved from a spectacular spill off the sled (with his brother which only cemented Mo’s deep hatred of all things snow), from between the legs of other people and on one spectacular ‘final’ backward run – from underneath a snow making machine. Each time, with a bigger grin on his face.

Frozen toes nonwithstanding he is ready to go back to the snow, every second of the day. He knows where his gloves are and he’s pretty sure Mo Mo will like it more, this time.

Way to be optimistic Spike!

Spike’s Frozen Mother xoxo

3 comments.

18 months old

Posted on April 20th, 2008 by Spike.
Categories: 18 months.

Lets see. What’s he been doing for the last couple of months?

His second Oscars. He still did not win anything. Pfff! Stupid Academy! What’s a kid gotta do?!
There were a few more plane trips. A few more stamps in his passport. (First run for the microchipped Aussie passport this time!)
His first (possibly) memorable experience with snow. Verdict: “Not sure.” Another visit with Granny Allie (who is fairly convinced he is the second coming – she’s right of course). Uncle Greg, Saint Dawn, Ozz and Glenda Sue (whom he found MOST interesting!) And he welcomed the arrival of his first little cousin. Miss Tilda!

I gotta say, the kid travels REALLY well! Every time he surprises us with how well he does it. WAAAAY better than his complainy Mumma. He has his own remote to play with. Some toys. People to ‘talk’ to and a bed to sleep in. What else could a little monkey need? Phenergan? Well, just this once. heh He’s a little champ! And people have asked, how do you keep a toddler amused at each airport while waiting for connecting flights? Simple. The escalator. Or as it’s known in our family, the Spike-O-mill! We just took it in turns to hold a hand (incase of accident and to pull him out of the way of silly people going the wrong way! D’uh!)

We had a fabbo time in Colorado. The snow tried to hold off but thought better of the situation and gave us a nice covering to play in. Spike was happy to put on his little leather jacket, “Jagg-et!” and hit the slopes/inclines/sidewalks! We did a lot of eating out too. He seemed to be quite fond of Mexican food. As Nancy and Roger were privvy too. Ditto the floor around him. LA is LA, no changes there but any time spent with our friends who remain in town is always good value. Uncle Copscotch is right on his wavelength. And the japes Uncle Gelder pulls with a plate of pasta? Well, Encore!

He continues to be quite tall. Quite blonde and curly. Not to mention, quite LOUD! He has a new found love for Playschool. Our friend Corinne was over the other day while he was watching it and she remarked, “Hey! They’re singing the same songs they used to sing when *I* watched it!” And she’s right. Noni can even be found hosting some days! PlaySchool is his bed time ritual. it’s the only thing he will sit still for. Until it gets to story time, then he’s off! If he didn’t devour his own books, I’d be worried! He’s also just started ’singing’ Twinkle Twinkle. Thanks to GrandMa who sings it to him. “Chinkle chinkle lil ss’aar. Par parbove the worl so so. Ike dy-mund sky. Chinkle chinkle ss’aar!” Put that with the hand movements and you’ve got yerself a bone fide Kodak moment. When they sang it on PlaySchool the other day (as I was trying to settle him down for his morning sleep) he lost his tiny bowl of nuts! “Mumma! Par parbove!” What a spazz! heh

He’s still yacking up a storm. A little English and some Chinese and a little Urdu as far as we can tell. All of it emphatically delivered and in full force over the phone. Most mornings begin with calling out for Daddy. Then brekky. Pretty soon after that he will find his socks and head for the front door.

“Papa?”
“No, no Papa today.”
“Awww!” [pause] “S(h)ooes? Car?”
“How about a walk to the park?”
“No.”

Then he waits for a while.

“Papa?”

He thinks Mumma has the memory of a goldfish! (Ok, some days she does. But HE shouldn’t know that!)

He’s still biffin’ shit off the balcony which drives us nuts. So we have a firm rule of taking his beloved dummy off him now if the balcony doors are open. “You can’t have both!” “Aww! Didi?” (see what I mean about the memory?) Another fave toy is his little blue and yellow bike. He corners like Mick Doohan and soars off the steps like Evil Kinevel! We took it for a run along the beach yesterday. Land speed records may well have been broken.

He’s just perfect. And it’s always going to be this good and this easy. Right? Right?! Hullo? Is this thing on!?

Mumma xxoo

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