Pushy mother of the day

has just signed up er pupo for suzuki violin lessons as of this fall. He might be on a waiting list for a while, so maybe he won't start straight away, but hopefully he won't have to wait too long. I've no idea if he is any good, but he definitely enjoys music and is connected in a way that stands out from his peers at kindergarten. (Honest! Not just me; also his daymum last year and his music teacher in Italy commented on this.)I'm not saying he is going to be a musical prodigy, but any kid who, before he was even two, would beg for opera over Thomas the Tank deserves the opportunity to explore.

I do feel a tiny bit pushy though... and when he starts, will I be able to resist the urge to compare him? Or bore other parents at the school gate with stories of his first performance of twinkle twinkle? (instead of just the regular readers of my blog. LOL! Both of you). I've promised myself that if he doesn't like it, I won't make him go; there is no shorter route to putting him off music for life than forcing it on him. But then at age 4 he is old enough to start piano....

Yes, I'm still pregnant!

So you can stop phoning every effing night to ask! I will CALL YOU WHEN IT COMES, OK?! Now eff off and leave me to be pissed off in private.

So why are you here, anyway?

My blog has a funny thing attached that tells me from what site people came to visit my blog. And it never ceases to amaze me just how often a google search for "naughty mummy" is the culprit. How disappointed you folks must be to reach my self-indulgent pregnancy and parenting meanderings with the rare diversion into ponderings of Scotland's place in the United Nations.

and now, of course, by posting this again, I yet again distract you from your true internet delights.
naughty mummy, naughty mummy, naughty mummy.

Now, go and get a job or do something constructive with your time, you sad old perverts.

Still pregnant; still trying to write

Well, it is my own fault that I am this bored and impatient. With er pupo, I wisely covinced myself he would be late: first babies are "always" late (which really begs the question as to what is normal; I mean, if they are all late, they aren't really late, are they?) Anyway, because er pupo turned up a surprising 2 weeks before his due date, I assumed this one would be at least as early.Bad, bad, bad move indeed. I am now 38+3, so not technically due for another 12 days, but every night I do wonder.
Figgin, however, is perfectly happy inside and is showing no signs of arrival any time soon. Bah., Looks like I will have to finish writing that paper after all. And then I think, well, maybe it is good that figgin stays in for a bit; er pupo has the dr tomorrow for allergy tests and I don't want to have to cancel; Thursday he is off school for a holiday and Friday is a half day for teacher training, then it is the weekend so... maybe next week would be better after all...

38 weeks pregnant = never happy

Perhaps I underestimate toddlers

perhaps I have low expectations, but er pupo continues to astonish me with the things he "knows." He a walking dictionary who translates everything: "mamma car; papá machinna; school bíll" and so on (and moreover constantly catching mum out when he asks for the word in Icelandic for cement mixer; or, shaming mother further, asking for the English word for those lorries that carry oil, or milk, or any liquid in a big long cylander. The italian is "autocisterna." Answers on a postcard, please.

But I am more impressed, and simultaneously disturbed, by his whole-hearted embracement of capitalism. The boy goes into my bag, pulls out my purse, takes out the coins and insists: "mette orso." If I really insist, he will tell me in English (because clearly I am too stupid) "bear, bear" which is his teddybear shaped piggy bank. And off he goes with his collection. He hasn't quite worked out about paper notes, or maybe they don't give such a satisfying clonk sound, but thankgoodness we are in the age of cellphones and I don't need emergency cash for a phonecall very often.

He also now goes around the supermarket and puts things he fancies in the basket. And I don't know HOW this is possible, but he has some radar for anything that contains chocolate. I mean, how is it that a 2 yo who has never been given smarties can recognise a packet from 100 paces?

Meanwhile, he is interested in the new arrival to come; or rather, quite possibly 2 new arrivals because er pupo also has a baby in his own tummy which moves frequently as he likes to tell me (I don't like to steal the magic by pointing out that the rumbling is probably just a big fart brewing). That, I hope, will happen soon indeed as I am now very sore and stiff and trying to find just about any excuse possible NOT to finish an essay that I can't be bothered researching.

Will let you know what comes out and when