What Children See

Ok so you should whizz over this post if you are bored of my playgroup stories because here comes another one.

Tinker and I braved the soggy weather this morning and went along for another morning of teal paint splatters on my violet Gucci hobo bag *ahem* I mean another morning of fun and creativity...

Things were going quite well, I had my takeaway latte and my little bunny had her biscuit. Things were good on the baby trampoline. Sun was starting to peek through and I was not feeling as fat as I had when a mirror was in sight.

I noticed a little boy playing with a big and a small ball. He was about 5 years old and he was sitting over near the playroom where most of the older kids play. I noticed none of the others were playing with him and I saw that he kept bouncing the ball toward them and his mum would fetch it and bounce it back. He was making some big sounds but they weren't proper words. I saw that he had Down Syndrome.

My heart sunk and I felt tears in my eyes, the ones I still get everytime I see a Huggies ad or read anything involving children and babies. The day I became pregnant something in me clicked and I became a massive softie who cries at least once a day over anything to do with little ones. Tinker had seen the balls and made a beeline for the little fellow. I was so pleased. She was so cute playing with him and he was so happy to have a ball bouncing partner even if she did occasionally steal it when he hadn't finished bouncing it. After a while she tired of the game as all toddlers do, she only has a short attention span so we went over to the baby cars for a while.

I feel really guilty that I didn't chat with his mummy, but the truth is I was doing that blinking thing. You know the thing where you blink really hard and really slowly when you don't want to cry in public? I felt so sad for her that I couldn't even bear to make eye contact with her at all. I was so angry with the other older kids there. I felt like pushing them over or at least smearing them with a bit of the paint Tinker splashed on my bag.

I didn't think children that young were able to see difference like that. I didn't think kindergarten kids could be so discriminatory? I was horrified and I am still feeling those tears as I type this post. That lovely little boy, his mother's heart must break every day she encounters people treating her little fellow differently. Gosh I feel sad when kids point to my stunning Tinker with her hair like spun rose-gold and say "look that baby has ORANGE hair ha ha!!"

Today really crushed me, I think it says so much about how important it is to be good teachers for our kids. My parents always taught me to be kind to everyone no matter how different they were to me. I grew up playing with wonderful Austistic children because of my dad's job. I never understood why other kids would make fun of children with disabilities.

What are your thoughts on this, was I wrong to feel cross with those children, should their parents have encouraged them to play with the little boy, could it have been a coincidence, what do children see when they see kids who are different?

Oh and on a completely shallow meaningless housekeeping note, how do I get the paint off the canvas on my bag?

Blog Bickering

I predict I'm going to cop a bit of abuse for this one, but I'm doing it anyway because...

A.) This is my blog and I can say what I like (insert 4 year old child symbol with hands on hips and tongue poking out)

B.) I've had a grumpy week so why not end it on a grumpy note?

C.) I *think* some of my lovely readers might just agree with me. I hope so anyway.

Ok so some of you might remember THIS post of mine a while back? Where I mentioned buying a little backpack harness for my sweet Tinker. Well I ended up buying the Panda. Tinker absolutely loves her "Pahndah" and it means that shopping with her is no longer a battle. Strapping her into a pram meant she would sob hysterically begging me to let her walk. Unfortunately she refuses to hold my hand for more than 30 seconds so letting her walk basically means letting her run in front of cars. So not going to happen.

With her little Panda on she can toddle beside me and touch things, pick up leaves, pat the dogs as we walk them to the park. You get the picture. I hold the end of the Panda's tail and she toddles in front. No dramas, no tears, only little chuckles as she trots along enjoying our walks.

Recently I read an article written by Wil Anderson, published in the Sunday paper and HERE on his blog. It really upset me so I decided last night to shoot him an email. I'm not normally one for wasting my time with such bickering but having been one of "those" people mouthing off about parenting before I actually had my daughter, I thought I should give Wil the benefit of the doubt and offer him the chance of enlightenment.

Here is a paragraph taken from his article:

I mean what is next? A collar with a bell and their phone number on it? Or why stop there, if you are that worried about them going missing take them down to the local vet and get them microchipped.

I’m sorry, but every time I see this it makes me feel uncomfortable. Surely a child is not a dog, despite how tempting it must be when they go to the toilet on the carpet to grab them and rub their nose in it.

So for me, the leash is one step too far.

How are you going to exercise your child, take them down to the park, throw a stick and get them to fetch? (Or will they be too busy sniffing the other kids’ bums?)

Then it’s only a small step to tie them to a pole out of the front of the shops while you duck in to grab the newspaper, and when they are crying too loud just put them in the backyard with a squeaky toy and a bone.

Again, I stress that I am not a parent, but I hope that if I am lucky enough to be one I will teach my kid boundaries and not just tie them to a rope and five them a three-metre radius.

I mean if you are that worried about letting them out of your sight then why stop at the leash, why bother even cutting the umbilical cord in the first place?

Then they will never get too far away, and for fun you can bounce them up and down like a yo-yo.

In fact while I am on a roll, maybe it is time we considered bringing in a parenthood test before we let people breed.


Here is a copy of the email I sent him:

Hi Wil, I like your blog and I really enjoy your column in the paper.
Your piece about "baby leashes" really irked me.
I thought I might invite you to spend some time walking with me and my toddler. I'd like to see how you manage without the "leash". Seriously.
I live in (my suburb) Sydney and my daughter is 17 months old. See attached. Really cute, really sweet but full of beans.
She won't hold my hand for more than a minute. She will throw herself on the floor and scream hysterically and then sob for 15 minutes if I do not allow her to walk.
So I let her walk and she runs off. She is too young to be trusted to walk on her own, she will run in front of cars. The "leash" is the only answer. This is her "leash" it is a backpack one: http://www.goldbug.com.au/collection.php?s=56

Let me know if you are up for the challenge. It might be funny.
Carolyn

He replied this morning and this is what he said:

hey carolyn,yeah that column has certainly divided people. and certainly i have had some negative feedback (admittedly only from people who use them, but they- like you- have explained their reasons why).all that said, i must admit that my position remains pretty much the same. i acknowledged in the original column that i am not a parent i think it's fair that we all have the right to have our opinions. it doesn't make your decision wrong, but it's also okay for me not to dig it. and i don't dig it.all the best,wil

So what do you my lovely readers think? What should I have sent in reply? This is a copy of my reply:

Fair enough Wil. It was just pretty harsh, what you said about needing a license to parent. I certainly know all about bad parents having been a Children's Court lawyer...I'd love to hear your suggestions though, an alternative? Perhaps the prison on wheels- The pram?Strapped into a pram, my sweet little Tinker will sob hysterically. She misses out on touching leaves, picking up sticks, running up to our dogs and generally toddling about. It seems such a cruel thing to do, but perhaps more palatable for the nonparent to see a hysterical child in a pram than a happy one in the backpack harness.Carolyn

Let Them Eat Cake

... the kids, that is!

This is a great toy from one of my favourite online stores The Land of Nod.

It is made of 100% wool felt, how adorable! If my little one was old enugh to know not to swallow the bits I'd be buying it in a hurry.

Really nothing grabs me more than beautiful toys and clothes for children and this cake is definitely going on my "to buy" list. I love it.

Sorry for the lack of posts lately, my baby girl has been in hopsital.

All will be well so I'll be back with more waffle ASAP.

xx