It seems London is burning… AGAIN! Last night a fire struck a housing estate in Peckham. Low and behold it's all over the London news this morning (the story that is.) So far reports are saying there are no fatalities, which is a good thing. It seems the fire is being dubbed "The Great Fire on London 2009". How a fire can be great, I'll never know!
But what I really loved about this article in particular was the quote from one of the residents. Lucy Pope whoever you are, you have won my quote of the day competition (which I just invented.)
“People are scared, they are standing in bus shelters and there are babies who have been woken up.”
Babies who have been woken up! OMG this is a real tragedy of epic proportions!!!
Also in other news that is completely unrelated to the fire in Peckham or babies being woken up by concerned parents who thought a woken baby is better than a burnt baby. (Although Lucy would beg to differ…)
I would like to send out a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to one of the most important people in my life. Words will never be enough to express who much you mean to me. Happy Birthday Kelton! I feel the same way about you as a fat kid feels about cake. xx
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Monday, 28 September 2009
Boy's Home: Saving our sanity since 1997
Some friends of mine were discussing punishment techniques for their toddlers. This reminded me of my brother’s naughty years and one particular form of punishment that had him running scared.
When my brother was little, I’m talking like 2-3 years old. He had a tendency to misbehave and just plain ignore his parents. Granted he was copying his big sister but it’s not something a 3 year old should be doing.
“Kelton please finish the rest of your carrots.”
“You finish it!”
“Kelton Please pack up your toys.”
“You do it.”
We tried everything from taking away his toys to not giving him pudding to even ignoring him. Ignoring him was the least effective. Whenever we ignored him he would just break something and then clap his hands at his triumph.
One day he was doing something particularly naughty and his father came out with, “Stop that son or we’ll send you to the boy's home!” Kelton looked rather confused; he hadn’t heard this one before. Mum was quick to follow and explained that very naughty boys went to the boy’s home and often they never returned. Very quickly Kelton became a reformed child, too scared to even breathe in case he was sent to the boy's home. It got to the point that mum would only have to pick up the receiver of the phone and Kelton would her hug her leg in tears screaming “NO BOY'S HOME NO BOY'S HOME! I'LL BE GOOD! NO BOY'S HOME!”
The boy’s home threat worked marvellously and we though the problem was solved. One day mum took me and our now reformed little angle to the grocery store. Contentently munching on an unpaid apple we didn’t hear boo out of him as I pushed him in his stroller and mum pushed the trolley. We got to the checkout and Kelton was let out of his stroller to choose a MR. Men book. The boy in front of us in the queue was throwing a tantrum and a half. Kelton calmly put the books down and waddled up to him, “Be good or your mum will send you to the boy's home!” The whole queue went quite and stared at my mother who went a deep red colour as she strapped her darling angle back in his stroller.
The boy’s home threat was never used again.
When my brother was little, I’m talking like 2-3 years old. He had a tendency to misbehave and just plain ignore his parents. Granted he was copying his big sister but it’s not something a 3 year old should be doing.
“Kelton please finish the rest of your carrots.”
“You finish it!”
“Kelton Please pack up your toys.”
“You do it.”
We tried everything from taking away his toys to not giving him pudding to even ignoring him. Ignoring him was the least effective. Whenever we ignored him he would just break something and then clap his hands at his triumph.
One day he was doing something particularly naughty and his father came out with, “Stop that son or we’ll send you to the boy's home!” Kelton looked rather confused; he hadn’t heard this one before. Mum was quick to follow and explained that very naughty boys went to the boy’s home and often they never returned. Very quickly Kelton became a reformed child, too scared to even breathe in case he was sent to the boy's home. It got to the point that mum would only have to pick up the receiver of the phone and Kelton would her hug her leg in tears screaming “NO BOY'S HOME NO BOY'S HOME! I'LL BE GOOD! NO BOY'S HOME!”
The boy’s home threat worked marvellously and we though the problem was solved. One day mum took me and our now reformed little angle to the grocery store. Contentently munching on an unpaid apple we didn’t hear boo out of him as I pushed him in his stroller and mum pushed the trolley. We got to the checkout and Kelton was let out of his stroller to choose a MR. Men book. The boy in front of us in the queue was throwing a tantrum and a half. Kelton calmly put the books down and waddled up to him, “Be good or your mum will send you to the boy's home!” The whole queue went quite and stared at my mother who went a deep red colour as she strapped her darling angle back in his stroller.
The boy’s home threat was never used again.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Womb Pimpin'
Last night I watched a documentary that followed the trials and tribulations of women who have babies for cash. Now while this is a very selfless act, to give up your body for the happiness of complete strangers, it did get me wondering. Besides the money, £10,000 up to £20,000 a pop, what would posses someone to spend most of their adult life knocked up? One woman had gone through the process 13 times and now at the age of 45 was looking baby number 14. Great pension plan but what must her health insurance cost?
Now, I’ve never been pregnant so I don’t know how it feels but I know a lot of people who have been and they all seem to come down with this that or the other. Fat feet, sore back, rashes, diabetes, moody and god know what else. But as they say, no pain no gain. Fair enough, if it’s your own kid I’m sure the pleasure outweighs the pain. But you can’t honestly tell me you’d go through nine months of living hell for a complete stranger’s child? That’s just hormones gone ‘I-must-make-babies’ mad! These ladies are on Coo-Coo land!
On that note, having a baby for a loved one who can’t conceive/carry is a beautiful thing. I take my hat off to those ladies who do that for their sisters, cousins etc. Personally, I couldn’t. I’ve been told that being pregnant is a very empowering thing and makes you feel complete. I think this is because you’re fulfilling your animal purpose. Women are baby making machine. That’s why we’re here. To prepare, produce and then pop. Thank god society has allowed up to vote in between our nine month Triple P Processes. Otherwise we’d get so bored! Apparently during the pregnancy you feel at one with your baby. I’m sorry but if I ever go through nine months of not seeing my fat feet, craving weird things, mood swings, a sore back and on top of that, form some kind of whacked-out bond with the parasite growing inside of me; you can bet your bottom dollar I’m keeping the little monster. Like hell I’m walking away from all of that without a trophy!
No, I think if you’re going to have a baby for cash you have some deep seeded problems and insecurities. You don’t need to pimp out your womb to feel loved, special, complete and needed. But in saying that, these women have mad a lot of people happy and themselves a lot of money. If you can’t have children, maybe taking advantage of these women and their fragile state of mind isn’t such a bad thing. I know if I couldn’t conceive/carry my own child that I would probably consider jumping on the baby train and pay a fruit loop to have one for me. If anything else, at least I’d keep my figure and my boobs wouldn’t sag. I’d pay £10,000 for that get out Jail Free card any day!
Now, I’ve never been pregnant so I don’t know how it feels but I know a lot of people who have been and they all seem to come down with this that or the other. Fat feet, sore back, rashes, diabetes, moody and god know what else. But as they say, no pain no gain. Fair enough, if it’s your own kid I’m sure the pleasure outweighs the pain. But you can’t honestly tell me you’d go through nine months of living hell for a complete stranger’s child? That’s just hormones gone ‘I-must-make-babies’ mad! These ladies are on Coo-Coo land!
On that note, having a baby for a loved one who can’t conceive/carry is a beautiful thing. I take my hat off to those ladies who do that for their sisters, cousins etc. Personally, I couldn’t. I’ve been told that being pregnant is a very empowering thing and makes you feel complete. I think this is because you’re fulfilling your animal purpose. Women are baby making machine. That’s why we’re here. To prepare, produce and then pop. Thank god society has allowed up to vote in between our nine month Triple P Processes. Otherwise we’d get so bored! Apparently during the pregnancy you feel at one with your baby. I’m sorry but if I ever go through nine months of not seeing my fat feet, craving weird things, mood swings, a sore back and on top of that, form some kind of whacked-out bond with the parasite growing inside of me; you can bet your bottom dollar I’m keeping the little monster. Like hell I’m walking away from all of that without a trophy!
No, I think if you’re going to have a baby for cash you have some deep seeded problems and insecurities. You don’t need to pimp out your womb to feel loved, special, complete and needed. But in saying that, these women have mad a lot of people happy and themselves a lot of money. If you can’t have children, maybe taking advantage of these women and their fragile state of mind isn’t such a bad thing. I know if I couldn’t conceive/carry my own child that I would probably consider jumping on the baby train and pay a fruit loop to have one for me. If anything else, at least I’d keep my figure and my boobs wouldn’t sag. I’d pay £10,000 for that get out Jail Free card any day!
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