Stomach Versus Brain

Today was my first day back at work, and in terms of family life, it was kind of back to normal for everyone. No longer did I get poked and prodded in the morning with cries of "Daddy Go Work?". No longer did I lay comatose on the stink bed whilst life went on around me. No longer did my hunger abatement continue.

When you've starved yourself for five days, yummy treats look specifically delicious. Imagine my horror when my brain, which associates morning tea time with some variant of a muffin, had to face off against my still sore stomach. Normally it would be stomach calling the shots.

Stomach: What shall we have today brain, a nice Raspberry and White Chocolate, or the Triple Choc.
Brain: We had Triple Choc yesterday, let's vary it today
Stomach: I concur. Oh how wise you are.
Together: MMMMmmmmm Muffins.

Today it was more like.

Brain: I'm hungry. Can't we have a muffin or six?
Stomach: Are you frickin' crazy? After what I've been through?
Brain: But I'm Soooooo Hungry.
Stomach: Stop your whining. Give me a good reason?
Brain: It's chocolately delicious.
Stomach: You make a compelling argument. Maybe just one.
Later
Stomach: OOOowwwwwwwooowowowowwwwooooooooo......

Ciao for Now, Brain One Stomach Zero Angry Dad.

Feeling significantly better with a baby

I've finally started to feel somewhat normal again, although I'm not regular at the moment. Actually, I took something to bind me up on Monday morning and it sure as hell worked because I haven't had to go since then and it's now Wednesday night. There is a lot to fill up. I still had today off, which worked a little to Anth's advantage. She had Celebration Day at Ethan's school in the morning, where the teacher's celebrated it only being two weeks to the end of the school year. She then had a working bee at Aidan's school, and went back again after lunch to do help with new parents who will be sending their kids to the Special school next year.

As much as she's a saint, her saintly husband had to put up with the baby who sticks to you all day as a result. It was deemed that I should now be over being virulent, so hopefully he wouldn't pick anything up. So I spent the day still relatively lethargic, but with a baby who is cheeky and gets up to mischief at the drop of the hat. Fortunately, he did manage to run out of steam three times today rather than the normal twice, so I got in some rest whilst he did as well.

That still didn't stop the naughty behaviours. We have a lounge that we don't encourage the kids to jump on. Of course we don't. It's not for the kids, its for the baby. We love that he eats his lunch and then goes and jumps on it, blurting his face on the window trying to get the attention of the dog. We love how no matter how much you yell "Get off the couch" from your own couch, he won't get off. I think I need a poking stick. Maybe 5 meters long. When I'm sick, I could use it to poke everyone.

Ciao for Now, I'm Back Baby Angry Dad.

Why is there so much crap on TV?

One thing about being sick with gastro is that you barely have any energy to do anything remotely practical, so you turn on TV. Homer would say "Don't you ever, Ever, EVER say anything bad about TV...", but I can't help it, it really is pathetic at the moment. Daytime TV is almost useless. There are re-runs of Scrubs on just before lunch, but that's the bare minimum. My god, they're even repeating Son's and Daughters, an Australian show which was crap in the 80's and is even more crap now. Intermixed within this is drivel shopping/morning shows, more soaps, and American talk shows. Oh Dr Phil, what have they done to you? At least Oprah maintains some modicum of decency.

In the afternoons I might get to watch some new variant of Teletubbies with Callum which whilst your sick is at least a little psychedelic. But don't start me on evening TV. We're just about to move out of ratings, but why the hell have we been served up with 20 to 1, Big Questions, and the multitude of shows claiming to be Current Affairs. No wonder the Internet has taken off in such a big way. Channel Nine in particular has some serious navel gazing to do. Remember, in Australia, we really only have 5 free channels to choose from, so the choice is pretty limited, and I'm too tight to pay for cable (for the whole extra 10 channels of anything viewable...)

Fortunately, my easy solution has been just to turn it off and crawl back to bed. If I could only concentrate enough to be able to read and hold a book open, whole new worlds of adventure, and something which might actually be brain stimulating instead of stupefying could await. Or I could just wait for Ethan to get home and load up the DVD player for me. Anth stopped responded to me ringing the bell for assistance.

Ciao for Now, There Really Is No Bell Angry Dad.

Slowly Getting Better, But Still Missing Out

Last night really blew. Literally. Out both ends. Don't you hate it when the toilet isn't near the sink, and the sink isn't near the toilet? I chose the toilet, which meant after I'd recovered from passing out I had to clean up spew. What fun. Too much information? Anth, who has chosen not to sleep in the cess pit of our bedroom whilst I'm sick, was fortunate enough not to be able to hear my screams of personal torture. I did manage to wake Ethan up though. He thought it was his own nightmare.

Suffice to say, I didn't go to work today, but I did finally make it to the doctor, who unfortunately confirmed the obvious. Gastro. Drink lots of fluids, and rest. I haven't had much choice. I can't eat anything, and I've barely had the energy most of the day to go more than an hour before needing to lie down. This really sux.

What made it suck the most was I missed Aidan's Award's Night tonight. His special school had their annual awards night. Aidan won an award for independent dressing, which is good. I guess most of us take it for granted that we can dress ourselves, or our kids can dress themselves once they reach a certain age. The Award's Night also includes songs from the kids. Aidan's class sang Rock Around The Clock. He sure looks like he was having a great time, and Anth said all the kids were really excited. I wish I could have been there.

Ciao for Now, Slowly Getting Better Angry Dad.

I'm just not well

This will be a quick post. I feel like crap. I'm currently bathed in sweat.

The only reason I'm even attempting to post anything is to keep up the daily average. I feel like I've been dragged behind a stagecoach in the Wild West. And then the horse kicked me. And then the coach ran over me. And then I got held up for a good ol' fashioned hangin'. And then they cut me down and said, suffer with that.

So as you can imagine I'm a whole bundle of joy. Not.

Ciao for Now, Still Just Not Well Angry Dad.

So Very Sick

I went to bed last night not feeling very well. It stayed with me all frickin' night. All up I had about 15 minutes sleep, tossing and turning, annoying Anth and generally calling to anyone to "Please help me". My stomach was churning, and around 3:00am, 5:00am and 6:00am it came out. And I'm talking in such a way that for all of today I've barely been able to stand up.

To top it off, all day today I've had to spend in bed. Towards the second half of the day the dire rear set in. Oh what a joy I've been to live with. I did manage to get some sleep by drugging myself up, but it hasn't taken away much of the pain. I don't really know where it came from. I though food poisoning, but no one else got it. I think it might be the onset of a bug which has been floating around work. Typical. Pick it up during the week so it wipes you out on the weekend.

So I managed to ruin our plans for today. We were meant to be going up the coast for a weekend away. Instead, Anth has had to put up with single handedly dealing with all three kids indoors for most of the day. She did take them out later in the afternoon to the local beach, but it would have been nice if I could have participated. It wasn't to be.

Ciao for Now, So Very Sick Angry Dad.

Why do they cry when she washes her feet?

This afternoon when I got home Anth was outside doing a cleanup of the back yard. All three boys were outside. Aidan was on a tri-cycle. Ethan was in the pool. Callum was "helping" by redistributing any swept up dirt and leaves back onto the path. I joined her, and together we finished things off, as well as clearing out some of the big palm fronds which fall from our palm trees at regular intervals.

After she finished, we all headed back inside. Then she disappeared. Callum also had disappeared. Ethan was watching TV. Aidan was in his room. I started cooking dinner. Still no Anth. Then I heard it. She called me into the bathroom to get Callum. There she was, feet firmly entrenched in a foot spa she had set up in the bath. Callum was trying to get into the bath for his own devious means. So I took him away.

For the next half an hour, whilst Anth soaked her feet, I had to put up with Callum lying on top of me, not quite going to sleep, crying. It went from soft sobs to full scale howling, all because he wasn't allowed to wash his feet with mum. I tried to run his back. I tried to rub his feet. It would settle him for about thirty seconds and then he started up again. Of course, once Anth came back out the little bugger dashed over to her, jumped into her arms, and was quiet for the rest of the evening.

Ciao for Now, I want to wash my feet and cry Angry Dad.

Did He Just Steal That Car?

Yesterday, as I pulled in and parked my car, I noticed this guy on the other side of the road casually walking up to another car parked on the other side. It was a well used Nissan Pulsar, probably 20 years old. The guy walked up to the passenger side door, pulled something out of his pockets, and slotted it down the passenger window. With two goes, and in about 10 seconds he had the door open. He lent in to the car, reached across the other side and unlocked the driver side door.

He then got out of the car, looked around, not noticing me sitting in my car, and walked quickly around to the driver side. I swear it took him about 5 seconds to get in the car, fiddle around, and get the car started. This makes me doubt that he could have really been stealing it. The way he drove off suggested maybe he did. He floored it, doing a U-Turn and speeding off down the street and around the corner.

Did he really steal it? It had all the classic "Look How Fast This Thief Can Steal This Car" symptoms. All up, maybe 45 seconds. It was so quick, and I was so engrossed watching I didn't take down any details of the car at all. He was also non-descript, but he looked kind of dodgy. I thought about going to the police, but then I thought, what if it was his car, and that was just the way he had to open it? I still don't know. What do you think?

Ciao for Now, It was all so quick Angry Dad.

Kentucky Remorse, Watermelon and Jogging

"Buyer's Remorse". Wikipedia defines it as the emotional condition whereby a person feels remorse or regret after the purchase of an item. I have it tonight, although in my rephrasing it is called "Kentucky Remorse", or for the new age "KFC Remorse." You see, this evening we had our two monthly odd take-away dinner from Kentucky Fried Chicken. I always feel a huge desire to eat Kentucky if I haven't had it for a while. I always feel remorse afterwards.

After I had managed to eat 3 pieces, Aidan decided that he would like a drumstick. As he started, he decided he didn't like the skin. What? That's the best part. He spent the next few minutes peeling it off, and passing it to me. Waste Not, Want Not. After about 10-15 minutes of the so called meal, Anth decided to get out some watermelon for the kids. At least this way they would have a smidgen of health with their meal. Callum certainly liked it, and I woofed down a few slices to try to smother the delicious fatty goodness that is KFC.

Perhaps half an hour after that the real remorse started to kick in. That's when I usually drink a good 2 litres of water. I also decided that I should go out for a run. Half an hour's jogging should at least work off the skin Aidan gave me. So I ran. About 15 minutes in I started to cramp up. The fatty colagulate had made it into my bloodstream so everything slowed up. About this time the regret part of Kentucky Remorse kicked in. I managed to lumber home, but now I don't feel so good.

Ciao for Now, Ohhh My Tummy Hurts Angry Dad.

"I'll See you in Hell!"

Where do kids come up with certain sayings? Whenever Ethan now jumps in the swimming pool he yells out "I'll See You In Hell!". He doesn't know, or won't admit, where he got it from. I don't know what movie he's seen where this line would come up. It's in Unforgiven. It's in The Empire Strike's Back. Hell, it's even in Buckaroo Banzai, but I haven't gotten around to getting that on DVD yet.

Maybe it was from TV, or from the school yard. I know all the kids run around and jump off things and chase each other. Ethan tells me that its one of the things the kids say in the playground, usually followed by imitated gun sounds. What rubbish are other parents teaching their kids. I'd never let my kid watch violent shows. Gee, even if I did come home and find him watching Terminator II this evening. C'mon, it's Arnie. That's not real violence is it?

Even Anth now gets in on the act. She swears that she has conversations which go along these lines.

Ethan: Where have you been?
Anth: Hell.
Ethan: What did you do there?
Anth: Nothing.
Ethan: I'll see you later.
Anth: No, I'll see you in Hell!

Maybe that's where it came from.

Ciao for Now, Not Quite That Ungodly Angry Dad.

The Technique That Works

I've been trying to utilise the good old "naughty room" or quiet room technique which has been going around for a millennium in dealing with children. I guess you could call it the naughty chair, or the quiet step, or the "frick it, I'm going out of my mind, so get out of my face" area. And if you persevere, it does work. I've been trying it on, particularly with Aidan.

Our problem (and it is our problem) with Aidan is that he gets an idea in his head about a certain behaviour and it just sticks. Because we've done a bike ride for two evenings in a row, this evening, he wanted to go out again. As both Ethan and I had Taekwondo, there was no easy way of fitting it into the schedule. Aidan on a bike need constant supervision. So we told him "No." He didn't understand, and went to great lengths to convince us that he indeed was going riding, including attempting to get into the garage to get his bike, and running around with his socks to put on his shoes.

When "No" just wouldn't work anymore, I took him aside, told him sternly that his behaviour wasn't asseptable, and took him to his room. The first few times he screamed, he yelled, he did his Tourette's like tricks. But over 25 minutes he got the idea that he needed to calm down, and that perhaps if when he came out he changed his behaviour, he'd get a better result. It sucks that it takes so much time to get a result, but ultimately that calming down gives you more hours of peace than if you just leave him to annoy you all night.

Ciao for Now, Not Asseptable Angry Dad.

The Park, take Two

We enjoyed the trip to the park yesterday so much we decided to do it again. Actually, it wasn't so much as decided, it was more that Aidan had a renewed interest in nagging us about going out on a bike ride. Ethan also wanted to again go and kick the footy. Anth wanted to go to the beach, but she was outvoted. I just really needed to get out of the house. In the morning I had cleaned the base of our shower of around 5 years of muck. You don't clean it when you think you're going to replace it. We never got around to replacing it. I think I was overcome by detoxification fumes.

Again, it was all of us who made the journey. This time around to speed up proceedings Callum was ferried down to the park in his stroller. This allowed us to take more stuff with us, including drinks, books, football and camera. As you can see, not everyone was happy to be there all the time. At this point, Ethan had felt I'd kicked the football at him one too many times. Notice how Aidan isn't to be seen in either of these upcoming shots. He'd ridden off to the playground to harass other unexpecting parents and children. We let him go.

Anth tried to read, but did have to keep a watchful eye on what Aidan was doing. She also had to ensure that Callum didn't get up to too much mischief. The kid is already a little Bamm Bamm. How do you tell a baby that has picked up a 2 meter long stick NOT to smack you with it? He also has a habit of finding any beer, soft drink or milk carton which someone has left behind, and trying to drink the dregs from it. He squeals each time it they're taken off him. This was subdued with a mummy approved drink, and the return trip home.

Ciao for Now, Destination Revisited Angry Dad.

Everyone down to the Park!

For the first time in what seems like ages, all of us went down to the local park late this afternoon. When I mean all of us, that means Me, Aidan, Ethan, Callum, Anth and Wednesday (the dog). Normally, it is a selective group, so that at least one of the adults can have some child free time. With Wednesday, due to her age and her increasing lack of hearing, it is getting harder and harder to take her out and let her off her lead. She tends to wander off, and as she can't hear, she won't come back when you call.

Callum, Anth, Wednesday and I walked on the footpath whilst Aidan and Ethan respectively rode their bike and scooter. Although its only about a kilometer to the park, as we progressed, we each spread out. As Callum dawdles, he was down the back with Anth keeping a check on him. Ethan was way out in front, with Aidan not that far behind as it was mostly a downhill coast for him on his bike. I kept as close as I could to them whilst encouraging Wednesday not to stop and smell, poo and wee at every tree.

But we made it. It took a while, but we did. Who would think that what should essentially be a 5-10 minute trip there, tends to take at least half an hour. We kicked around a footy for a while, tried not to have a heart-attack with our lack of fitness, utilised some muscles we didn't know we had, and then had to endure the journey back. Another half an hour and our adventure was done.

Ciao for Now, Its the Journey not the Destination Angry Dad.

Fish and Chips and Pirates

As Friday nights are generally take-away nights, this evening we went and got Fish and Chips. Well, there were fish and chips and sea scallops and potato cakes and calamari rings. All up, a nice little feast, which we took down to Shorncliffe. Shorncliffe is a suburb of Brisbane which faces both Moreton Bay and The Cabbage Tree Creek. The Creek runs out into the bay, so we were somewhat sheltered, however there was still a stiff breeze coming off the water.

We set up at a table, and proceeded to have the wind blow our drinks over. It wasn't too much drama as we all huddled in together, ripped small holes in the paper wrapping up the fish and chips, and ate our meal together. It may have been a little cold, but the hot food soon warmed us up. As the sun set, we walked along the path by the creek.

The surprise for the night was that today I bought the Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest on DVD. Both Ethan and Anth hadn't seen it, so when we got home we all sat down to watch it. Aidan preferred to watch The Simpsons in his room, and Callum spent about an hour climbing all over us before he got tuckered out. We did get to see the second half without too much interruption. So there you have it, a Friday Night at the Angry Dad household!

Ciao for Now, Arrr Me Hearties Angry Dad.

Clone Me

In the Simpson's Treehouse of Horror Episode XIII, Homer manages to clone himself by using a magic hammock. As much as I'd love this to be a blog post about hammocks, you'll have to go to the Hammock District to find out more about them. In the episode, in one of the stories Homer creates many clones of himself to help him with all the mundane jobs he has to do.

There are days when I'd love a magic hammock to clone myself. Not only could I get a nice kip in, I could send off the clones to do all the things I should do, but don't get around to. One could clean the pool, another could do the finances, another could go out for a run, whilst a fourth could cook dinner. Each of the kids could have one to look out for them. Anth could have two, one for back rubs and the other for foot massages.

Of course, just like Homer, this could come to a terrible end once the Angry Dad clones started to think for themselves. Or like in Multiplicity, the clones would end up with their own personalities. It would be just my luck that one of the foot massaging or back rubbing clones would actually be a sane, smart, nice Angry Dad, and then I'd be shunted out to oblivion. Then again, if they did like they did in the Simpsons to kill off all the Homer clones, I'd be the first one chasing the donuts over the cliff!

Ciao for Now, MMMmmm Cloned Donuts Angry Dad.

You forgot and I scared you

Ever have those moments where you forget something important, but carry on regardless without thought for what you may have forgotten. I came across someone doing that this morning on my way to work. I scared the shit out of him. Imagine, if you will, that you're sitting in your car, you start the engine, and you carefully pull out from the curb. Out of the corner of your eye you catch movement, and you turn to see this particular head at your window, with the arms of this person gesticulating wildly. Wouldn't you jump out of your seat and drive forward, trying to lock your car door as you drove away?

The reason I was waving wildly was that I'd seen a our poor car hero casually getting into his car after he'd been out for a bike ride. He'd obviously just put his expensive cycle onto the roof racks of his car, but in his haste, he'd forgotten that the front wheel of his bike had been left resting against the front of his car. He was all dressed up in the full cycling gear. The bike looked expensive, as did the wheel. When I realised he was getting into his car, and then that he was going to pull out, I thought "Shit No! The Wheel!", so I tried to get his attention.

Of course, me trying to get his attention meant that he drove over the top of his bike wheel. Fortunately, he didn't drive onto the wheel, more over it and once he'd stopped and realised that maybe I wanted to tell him something, he opened his door and that's when I said "You've run over your bike wheel mate, but I don't think you crushed it." He got out of his car, checked it was ok, then thanked me profusely. I was just sorry I scared him so much!

Ciao for Now, Scary Angry Dad.

A Change of Routine

When you have a child with Special Needs, they like to have set routines. Yesterday, Aidan was perhaps the best he has been in a long time when getting ready for school. He showered. He had his clothes ready for school. Anth dressed him without complaint, and he even put on his shoes with his orthotic without any drama whatsoever. Today's effort was markedly different.

Yesterday, a change to his routine was introduced. He has had the same bus driver and on-bus carer for a number of months now. Unfortunately, the on-bus carer is away sick this week. This means a new carer is on board, and the bus ran late both yesterday and today. To top this off, Aidan has had to adjust to the new and different carer.

Perhaps this was reflective of why this morning he was a total pain in the arse. He screamed whilst getting ready for his shower. He pulled out all his annoying habits, including shouting phrases he knows we do not like. He wouldn't get dressed. He wouldn't put on his shoes. He sat out in the backyard yelling. He tried to run to the bus before it had arrived. Perhaps I was more sensitive to it because it isn't part of my normal routine, as I normally would have left for work. But as it started earlier, I felt like I had to help deal with it. Anth assures me she could have dealt with it, and I'm sure she could, but I felt I had to change my routine to at least show some semblance of help. Sometimes I wish I could understand more what goes on in Aidan's head.

Ciao for Now, Routinely Yours Angry Dad.

The Ghost Who Walks (with little steps)

The Phantom is known as The Ghost Who Walks. We have our own little phantom at our place. He doesn't quite get around in the skin tight purple suit, and also doesn't have a mask, but his ghost can be seen passing like a silvery blur at the most inopportune times.

Take having a shower for example. In our ensuite, we have a shower and toilet. The toilet has a toilet roll holder. The toilet roll holder houses the toilet paper. Whilst showering, you sometimes see the Ghost Who Walks With Little Steps shimmer past the frosted glass of the shower screen. You then see him disappear, a white flowing cape following on behind him. It seems to go on for miles. Or perhaps just for 500 odd sheets. Having to clean it up gives me the sheets.

That's not the only ghostly apparition Callum leaves behind. There's always the mystery of who upturned the clothes basket? Who left the fridge open to make the milk go a beautiful stench of green? Who keeps the sliding doors open to outside to let in the flies? and Who keeps tipping the outside potted plants on their end, and leaving muddy footprints everywhere? If only the skull mark was left on the culprit.

Ciao for Now, Help Us Mr Walker Angry Dad.

The First Swim of the Season

Summer's coming. It's already starting to get hot. Today Ethan had his Soccer team's Christmas party. It was at the Chermside Pool. This was fun because they have a large tower with three water slides, and a lot of theming around the pool area. Ethan and his soccer friends spent most of the time running around, on the slides, or swimming. Four hours of fun in the sun. I've got a sunburnt neck.

I did manage to go in for a swim there. I also went on the water slides, although a man of my austere dimensions sometimes finds it difficult on the slides. I get stuck. Its so stupid. If I don't push myself fast enough on take-off, I get about 5 metres down the slide and stop. Then there's the furious push off again, to ensure that I don't get some teenager ramming me in the back. I've tried sitting up, laying down, aqua-planing my back and somehow its just not right. Yes, I know, losing about 15kg would probably help.

By 3:00pm I'd had enough, and Aidan was at home waiting to swim in our pool. We left, and got home to find Aidan in his swimmers, but he didn't want to go in. He got thrown in anyway. Even Callum got to have a nekid baby swim. It was a little brisker in our home pool, but he didn't seem to mind too much. So other than Anth, we've all now had our first swim of the season!

Ciao for Now, Swimming Boy Angry Dad.

Armistice Day and God

Ethan brought up two interesting conversations today, both of which he had learnt from Primary School. I can't recall being so active intellectually when I was a kid, but he seems to have all sorts of things going on. The first of these relates to Remembrance Day, or what I learnt as Armistice Day. On the 11th November each year, we remember those who fought in the two World Wars primarily, and all those who have served their country in the defence force. Today, Ethan new this was important to remember, although he didn't quite know why.

I've written about my feelings on war before, and still stick to the motto of Anzac Day and Remembrance Day of Lest We Forget. We reminded Ethan that today we remembered all those people who had died when they fought in the Wars, and how nasty War was. His response was that God would look after them.

God must have been on his mind when we went to Bunnings. Whereas I was thinking "God, how much am I going to have to pay for this decking oil?", Ethan came out with "You're the father, so you must be God." Where do kids come up from this stuff? I figured it must have been part of him thinking about the Holy Trinity: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Being diplomatic, I responded that I wasn't God, but that God was all around us. He wisely responded that "God was in All of Us". Even as an Agnostic, how do you argue with that?

Ciao for Now, Too Much Philosophy for a Saturday Angry Dad.

Being Hypnotised

Hypnosis is a state of mind in which a person's conscious critical thinking mind is bypassed and communication with the subconscious mind is established.

That's the Wikipedia Definition of Hypnosis. Tonight, as part of the Christmas Party activities for our Taekwondo club, we had an evening with a Hypnotist Show. The show was Mark Anthony's Hypnaughty Show, which was more focused on adult entertainment. Don't get me wrong, there was no stripping or nudity, but the people who did get up and have a go did things which would have made their mother's blush!

We went with friends, and although Anth tried to convince me to get up I chickened out. Not so Graham, who dashed up there ready to go at it! And go at it he did. All up, about 12 people got hypnotised. They did things like dance like ballerina's, give birth, and lots of sexual innuendo. They had a lot of fun, and we had a lot of fun watching them do it. I knew about half of the people who got up and did things, so it was funny to see them behave not quite as you expected them to!

Afterwards we tried to get Graham to tell us what it was like. He said he could see and hear everything, and even when he was "asleep" he could hear what was going on. The thing he recounted was that although he could see and hear, there were things he just couldn't do. When told to sleep, his hands and feet felt numb, and he couldn't lift his head up or open his eyes. When doing things, it was like he knew what he was doing, but didn't really care. When watching the others, he really wanted to laugh and knew it was funny, but couldn't. He said he felt pretty tired afterwards, and the hypnotist told him he'd sleep well. I'm glad it was him and not me!

Ciao for Now, Chicken and Not Hypnotised Angry Dad.

The Hiccup Burp

Kids love it when you're gross. I'm gross. I have picked up a particularly disgusting habit in my older years in that when I get the hiccups, I can't help but burp after each one. Hence, the Hiccup Burp. Wikipedia tells me that the Hiccup is caused by an involuntary spasm of the diaphragm, generally caused by specific situations such as eating too quickly. The Burp is caused by the release of gas from the digestive tract through the mouth. If it goes the other way, its a fart! (queue your own fart joke here!) Burping is typically caused by eating or drinking too fast.

Tonight we went out for dinner at a local restaurant. We arrived with what we thought was time to spare before 7:00pm, knowing that we had to have left before 8:00pm so that Anth could go to Netball. We ordered, sat down, and waited. Normally service takes about 15-20 minutes. After half an hour, we still hadn't been served. This meant the calling of the waitress to determine where the meals were. A few minutes later, they arrived, followed by the scoffing and scarfing of said food so we could leave on time! (Here is another example of gross in the Adventures of Angry Dad)

Because we ate so fast, I got the Hiccup Burps. They hit whilst in the car as we went to pick up Aidan from his carer. "Hiccup, Buuuurrrrrp" came out about every 30 seconds. "Ewwww, Dad" was the response from Ethan. At first he thought it was hilarious. After a few more minutes, he was telling me how to get rid of them by holding my breath. They only stopped when I stopped the car and got out. Then I farted.

Ciao for Now, Gross Out Angry Dad.

Melbourne Cup Day (A Day Late)

Yesterday the race that stops the nation, the Melbourne Cup, was run. I had other things on my mind, so didn't post about it. Today, on reflection, and after seeing Aidan's photo's from his Cup day, I thought I'd write a few words.

The Melbourne Cup is a thoroughbred horse race. But it isn't just any horse race. Its run over close to two miles, and is the richest race in the country. The first place winner gets $3 million Aussie dollars, which is worth about the equivalent of a case of beer and a pizza in other countries. All up we Aussies gamble close to $120 million just on that one race. Nearly everyone bets on it. It is an international event, with horses from other countries competing, and this year two Japanese horses came in first and second. I, of course, bet, and even managed a winner, but still lost more than I won!

At Aidan's school, he had a special Cup day set of activities. Those that could got toy horses, and a specially laid out track was set up for the kids to run around. All the teachers cheered the kids on as they giddy up'd all over the place! Aidan was very proud to show us all his "news" after the event, with the pictures of him and his horse, and his special Cup Day crowns for being a winner. All the kids got them!

Ciao for Now, Giddy Up Angry Dad.

The Tank Man of Tiananmen Square

Image Copyright: Jeff Widener (The Associated Press)

On June 5, 1989, one day after Chinese troops expelled thousands of demonstrators from Tiananmen Square in Beijing, a solitary and unarmed protester stood his ground before a column of tanks advancing down the Avenue of Eternal Peace. Captured by Western photographers watching nearby, this confrontation became an icon of the fight for freedom around the world.

This evening, on SBS television, I watched a Cutting Edge documentary on the Tank Man of Tianamen Square. It was confronting, and I must admit that although I knew the image, I didn't know the background of the uprising. This was a people's uprising against the then government of China over oppression and civil rights. It is the actions of governments such as these which make me Angry.

I am fortunate enough to live in one of the greatest countries in the world. In Australia we enjoy vast freedoms, which many of us have no idea how lucky we truly are. We accept it as part of our mandate for being here. We have a huge multi-cultural community, and yet we still have a true sense of ourselves as a nation. Apart from our indigenous aboriginals, to whom we should be sorry, we have never been an oppressed or discouraged people.

I'm proud to be Australian, and I hope that we can be passionate about calling out for justice around the world. I'm far from perfect, yet I hope that for my kid's sake, that if pushed I could stand up to a tank in an act of defiance against a considerably greater force for what I believed in. Little remains known of Tank Man's identity, however, as a symbol of an individual's power to halt government and force a change in direction it cannot be denied.

Ciao for Now, Saluting the Tank Man Angry Dad.

Don't Pull Hair!

We bit the bullet last week with the failing parts of our pool, ordering a new pump, filter, chlorinator and kreepy krawly. The pool boy came today and set it all up, much to Anth's delight. No, not that kind of delight. Well, at least I don't think so! When I rang her during the day and found out they were there, all I could hear in the background was Aidan helling yelling "Pool Man is my Friend!" If that was the case, then he wouldn't have had any time to do anything other than placate Aidan and fix the pool.

When I got home, Anth and I went out to survey the left over mess, and the nice new system which replaced it. Both Callum and Aidan were left behind the pool fence whilst we reviewed all the new bits. The equipment is down one end of the pool area, where we couldn't see the back door where the kids were. Callum started crying, however, we just assumed this was because he wasn't in with us. We ignored him until his screaming got so loud we had to go and see what was going on.

Unfortunately, it wasn't because he missed us. When I got to him, his hair was standing on end straight up. The Eldest Boy bolted off, the remnants of hair mixed with chocolate biscuit still in his hot little hands. Aidan has a terrible habit of pulling Callum's hair, because he knows it will make Callum cry, which will also get him attention. Pity its all bad attention. "Don't Pull Hair" is a constant cry in our place. Tonight he was locked in his room, with the threat he wouldn't be able to go to his Awards Night coming up. Half an hour later he was very, very apologetic.

Ciao for Now, Hopefully the Hair Pulling Will Stop Angry Dad.

Three Kids in a Park

Anth got to go and have a morning at the shops which left me with the three children. What to do, what to do? I know, I'll take them to the park! This turned out to be a reasonable idea. What sane adult wouldn't want to take 3 kids, including a newly walking baby, to a seaside park. We got on our thongs, changed out of our pyjamas and jumped in the car to head to the beach. After the standard fights of "who is going to sit in the front?" we were finally on our way.

The journey there was relatively uneventful, excepting that Aidan had in his head a particular park he wanted to go to. Ethan wanted to go somewhere else, which came up first. Ethan's criteria was that he wanted somewhere where he could kick a footy and throw his toy helicopter in the air. This meant lots of open spaces. Fortunately for me, Aidan kicked up a stink, because he wanted a different park. Thankfully, we got to move on to a park with a fence. Fenced in with children is good.

We ended up at Sutton's Beach in Redcliffe. This is a good area as it has lots of open lawn, the beach facing the bay, and a fenced Pirate Themed park to play in. Ethan dashed off to play on the ship and slides, Aidan dashed off to annoy other parents, and Callum and I went into the shaded area so he could wander around to his heart's content. Aside from Aidan trying to chat up other kid's mums, and me trying to ignore he was my kid, everything ran quite smoothly. Callum even got to go down the slides.

The only difficult part is removing three kids from a fun park. Aidan had to be dragged by the wrist, much to the disdain of chatted up mothers. Callum did the back arch and scream when I lifted him from the slide to leave. Ethan came along reasonably, but at a 10 metre distance as he didn't want to be associated with the crazy man with the screaming kids. I'm surprised the police didn't stop me and demand to know if these really were my children. "Of course not officer" would be the only response.

Ciao for Now, Arrest Me Now Angry Dad.

Jelly Baby

We have had several times where when we go shopping Ethan has requested Jelly. In the past what has happened is that as we go down the shopping aisle, he makes a big song and dance about how much he loves it, and how he needs it, and how he is going to eat it all up. We get home, make up a batch, and as we're making it he starts going "ewwwwww." By the time it sets and is ready to eat, he makes vomit sounds, and there's no way you're going to get any of that puppy down his throat.

So we came today, and Ethan hadn't been to the supermarket with me for a while. I made the daring journey of taking all three boys with me. We got to the Jelly Aisle, and Hey Presto! there was the request from Ethan for Jelly. He wanted Red. Aidan wanted Green. Callum was happy to sit in the trolley and pull Aidan's hair (revenge is sweet). As Jelly is cheap compared to bananas, I succumbed and bought one each.

After lunch we made up a batch of the Red Strawberry Flavoured jelly. Ethan did all the mixing, and we delicately put it in the fridge. He spent the rest of the afternoon checking on it. After dinner, for desert we got out the Jelly and Ice Cream. No Vomit, not even a throat tickle. He mushed it up and ate it all down. Even Callum got in on the act, and that was so cute it deserved a photo. All through the serving and eating process Anth and Ethan sang a new Jelly song I hadn't heard.

Wiggle Wobble, Wiggle Wobble.
Jelly on a plate.

Ciao for Now, Jelly Belly Angry Dad.

Happy Little Vegemite

This evening Ethan had his school concert. It was an Australian Made Variety Concert. With his class, all of the kids got dressed up like Vegemite and sang the Happy Little Vegemite song. It was good, because it was early on in the show, so I got to see him, and then I could go.

"Why did you have to go?" I hear you ask. Well, having an intellectually disabled boy and a baby can lead to interesting consequences when you go out to school functions. It can either work, or it can't. Tonight, Aidan got it in his head that we should have been going to his Annual concert. From the minute I got home, through dinner, in the car trip, and for most of the show we got repeated every 30 seconds. "Can I go to my Awards Night soon?" I don't know about you, but after an hour and a half of the same thing being said to you, it starts to wear a bit thin. On top of that, as I had to have him sit on my lap, he managed to pee on me before telling me he needed to go to the toilet.

After that, I did the swap with Callum for Aidan. He was great through one song, watching the kids, whilst Anth had to hold on to Aidan. Then Callum decided he wanted Mummy. The he decided to start crying. Loudly. During a sax-a-ma-phone solo some kid was playing. So we had to go outside. With all the stinky smokers, who can't stay inside watching their kids, because they have to get their cancer stick fix. By then I'd pretty much had enough. I was glad I did get to see Ethan, and get one decent photo of him! And I'm glad Anth got to enjoy the majority of the concert.

Ciao for Now, Not So Happy Little Vegemite Angry Dad.

A Run in the Cool Night

This afternoon I participated in the Cool Night Classic run. This is a corporate run organised by Price Waterhouse in aid of different charities each year. It is nice and short at only 5km, and it is run late in the afternoon when the temperature has cooled down enough to not make it unbearable. I managed to do it in 31:16, which means I was doing just over 6 minute kilometers. For an old hack like me I didn't think that was too bad.

There were over 4,600 participants, and we ran from the Botanic Gardens in the City, across the Goodwill Bridge and along the Brisbane River. From there, it was up and over the Story Bridge, and back along the other side of the river into the city again. As you can imagine, with so many people all trying to run/jog/walk the path, it was quite a stretch to get any real pace up, which suited me fine.

The whole family has had an active week this week which is good. Aidan recently did his own fun run. Ethan has been doing AusKick and Taekwondo. Anth is playing Netball. Even Callum is coming out to the park with us to do his own stuntwork. The only one who isn't really getting out and about is Wednesday, but that's mainly because of arthritis kicking in. Maybe this fitness thing can make a difference. If only the dreamy donuts didn't call. *sigh*

Ciao for Now, MMMMMmmmmm Donuts Angry Dad.

Auskick!

Ethan has taken up Auskick. Auskick is the Australian Rules Football program for learning the basics of Aussie Rules. I'm wrapped that he is doing it, as its my favourite game. Having been brought up in Victoria, I was brought up on a diet of football, with my favourite team being Carlton. Unfortunately, in Queensland, Rugby is the game of choice, so it is difficult to get a lot of Aussie Rules information, even though they do have an AFL club here.

This afternoon after I got home from work Ethan, Callum and I went down the local park to kick the footy around. As you can see from these two action shots, Ethan is starting to get the hang of it. When he kicks it, he calls it a bomb. My main concern was that he didn't kick it onto the roof of the scout hall which was nearby. Note also how in Queensland, you don't walk around with shoes on. You have to make sure that you play footy in your thongs, and it is important that when you go for a kick that you flick off your thong from the kicking foot, but leave it on the other one. It just looks better.

Callum also had a lot of fun. Our little stuntman waddled around Ethan and I as we kicked the footy. Just minutes before this photo was taken he managed to dive head first onto the grass. If he only had of taken a mark of the footy it would have been that much more spectacular. Unfortunately, it was more the point that he just decided to dive forward onto the grass. Hence the look of the red nose, and windswept hair. But as the T-Shirt says, he does his own stunts.

Ciao for Now, Kick it to me Angry Dad.