Every night, I lie next to The Pixie in her bed and read her a few pages from this dreadful book she chose from the library involving fairies, princesses, wishes, magic spells and unicorns. The only thing missing from that heady line-up, as far as I can see, are the pony mermaids. But we’re only half way through the book so there’s hope yet.
It took me about a fortnight of reading this book before I realised that she wasn’t actually listening to a single thing I was reading.
“Uh, Pixie,” I said to her as I put the book away one night. “Did you actually listen to what I just read?”
“Yes, Mama,” she nodded, her grey-blue eyes all wide.
“Oh, okay. So who is going to help Sebastian and Maddie get to Mountain of Clouds?” I asked.
“Lelolala!” she said, brightly.
For the record, there wasn’t a character called ‘Lelolala’ in the book. There wasn’t even a character whose name even vaguely resembled ‘Lelolala’. In fact, I think it’s fair to say, there isn’t a single character in all of literary history called ‘Lelolala’.
And yet, knowing she’s not really listening, I keep reading the book to her each night. I’ve worked out that she’s just using the book as an excuse to snuggle up to me in her bed and listen to the sound of my voice. And now I’m just using the book as an excuse to have her snuggle up to me – oh, and to listen to the sound of my own voice.
You see, my little girl is growing up and these are the things you cling to.
Recently, I had the great pleasure of going to the school disco with her. Mr Justice had come with us, too, but he had scuttled off into the shadows at the first opportunity, reemerging only to beg for more money to buy glow-in-the-dark sticks so he could make the longest-ever-chain-of-glow-in-the-dark-sticks and whack his friends with it.
The Pixie, in stark contrast, wanted me to dance with her.
Have you ever danced with a bunch of six year olds? It’s hard not to feel incredibly conspicuous, like Gulliver pop’n’lockin’ at the Lilliput Senior Prom. Especially when you’re completely sober, wearing glow-in-the-dark bracelets and holding two bottles of water, two jumpers and a large handbag.
But after a few songs, I found that I no longer cared.
In fact, before I knew it, I found myself leading a bunch of kids in ‘The Marcarena’ and cutting loose to ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go Go’ and then, when Mr Justice came up to me in the middle of ‘Cha Cha Slide‘ asking for money to buy a ZooperDooper, I felt legitimately annoyed because I couldn’t hear what Mr C the Slide Man’s next instructions were. And then my friend Mistress M turned up out of nowhere and she began dancing with me and the kids, too, and she was holding a half-eaten hot dog but it didn’t stop her from joining in the actions to ‘YMCA’, which the school principal was leading us all in from a stage which he was sharing with a DJ wearing a Warwick Capper wig. And amidst all this, I looked down to see my little girl looking up at me with the disco lights dancing on her face and I saw such love and happiness in her eyes and I realised that this was one of the best times I’d ever had – not least because I knew that this time next year, my daughter would want me to drop her off at the door of the school disco and would, most likely, ask me to pretend to be the Nanny.
Indeed, when I asked her a few days later what her favourite part of the school disco was, she was quick to answer “Dancing to [Justin Bieber’s] ‘Baby’!”.
And with that, she wandered off to her room, singing “Baby, baby, baby, oh!”.
“Ah…” I thought to myself. “It begins.”
It begins.
OMG *tears* I’m sorry but the tear-jerking is my domain. Please in future stick to causing adult incontinence. That was just too lovely.
I like to keep you on your toes, Cate… Next week I’ll blog some startling insights into the National Broadband Network debate currently raging in Australian Parliament… or not.
I agree with Cate Bolt. What the hell are you trying to do to us?
On a similar note, I complained to a friend that my husband sabotages the night-time schedule by laying down and rubbing our daughter’s back at night, and then falling asleep there. Then, when he is away for work, and I have to do it all I’m screwed ‘cos she wants me to do the same and I have all this other stuff to do. My girlfriend told me to enjoy it. It doesn’t last long. I shut up. I take advantage of her desire to have us close. You’re right it doesn’t last forever.
So he makes the bed and then makes you lie in it? Shuh!
But yes, enjoy that closeness for as long as you can…
Oh how lovely.
I had the three of mine jumping up and down to the Black Eye Peas’ “I got a feeling (tonight’s gonna be a good night)” over the summer, to the point where they would not leave the house in the morning until the song came on the radio.
(Made for some late exits. Tsk. If only radio stations were more compliant with parental needs.)
The upside is the joy on their little faces and the laughter that I carried with me for the rest of the day.
The downside? Ow. My hips. I need silicone implants.
LCM x
That, too, is lovely… (not the bit about your hips, though. Them’s some bad shit.)
Coincidentally, my son’s class did their School Concert performance to ‘I Gotta Feeling’ and, because he practiced it for us a thousand times, my daughter and I know all the moves.
So when they played it at the school disco, we were all, like, “Go out and smash it! Like OH MY GOD!” and doing our moves (while my son lurked at the back of the hall, probably blushing from head to toe).
Not feeling particularly literate this morning so will just say ‘awwwww’
Thank you, Green Mama.
Sigh……..my little girls both love to hear my voice and snuggle at night too, and yes, I realised a long time ago that I could be reading the Age Finance pages and it would thrill them just as much.
Only problem is that now we have Master One who thinks that snuggles and cuddles are his domain and his alone and refuses to let the girls near me. He has taken to sitting on the book if he can’t get on my lap, pulling the girls’ hair to get them to leave me etc, then squealing until I take him away for some alone time. Of course by the time I get back to the girls they’re asleep. It’s a nightly disappointment I haven’t been able to find a solution for. He’s already up at 5am so putting him to bed earlier just wouldn’t work either.
Sigh……….this too shall pass – I only hope the girls still want their cuddles when it does.
I wonder if Elle Macpherson’s kids find her embarrassing – I’ve got my 8 year old giving me advice on what to wear for school pick up so she won’t be embarrassed.
Too right Elle McPherson’s kids find her embarrassing. She hasn’t changed her hairstyle in 25 years!
My McGee is just like your Master One, even at the ripe age of (almost) 4! Still insanely jealous of any attention directed towards his siblings and not towards him…
Lovely. But what about the all-important frock?
I should clarify for people here that my mother is referring to my daughter’s frock – which she, my mother, gave to her for her birthday – which was hot pink, with sequins and a ra-ra skirt.
She looked great, particularly because I took her plaits out and gave her ‘Disco Hair’.
LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! It’s cute when you get all sentimental and say such gorgeous things about your kids….I agree with Cate – I love the ones which make me snort and giggle and guffaw loudly, but, being the big softie that I am, adore these ones too! :-)))) The Pixie is such a little sweetheart….love the imagery you created (disco lights dancing on her face & the YMCA hotdog)..xoxox
Thanks, PG.
Perhaps the half-eaten hot dog will become the Must Have accessory for nightclub dancers all over the globe?
When I was in Japan (’92 – ’94), having fold-out fans while you were dancing was all the rage at Juliana’s – *the* hottest night club in Tokyo.
I tried it out in the daggy nightclub in the little rural corner of Japan that I lived in and a gay friend of mine staged an intervention. I think he might have even snapped the fan in half over his knee…
I saw the tweet about Cate’s response & used it as a warning to leave reading this for a private moment.
I love my *snorts that often accompany your post, but I’ll take my *misty-eyed response this one created too.
Truly, truly precious moments you’ve shared. The Pixie is a lucky girl that her mum appreciates and embraces the beauty of motherhood in all its guises.
Grrrr can’t edit my typos! Sorry for the disgraceful grammar.
Now it’s my turn to say “Awwwwwww”. Thanks for such a beautiful comment, Sue.
PS. I changed your “it’s” to “its” because, well, I’m a nice blog owner like that.
GAH! the Beibers have hit your house nooooooo!
My two have a perfectly rational hatred of him and spent a full twenty minutes scrawling on a poster of him that J got in her “total girl” magazine – by the end of it I was quite Justin empathetic – I mean he is seriously going to regret singing like a girl when he is twenty…
not really the point.
A beautiful post. Thank you. My two either wouldn’t go, or would definitely have us drop them at the door and go away…
I miss being wanted. *sniff*
Interestingly enough, the first I heard of this “Baby baby baby Oh!” song was when The Pixie came home and told me how baaaaadddd her teacher thought the song was.
Usually her teacher’s word is sacred. I mean, her teacher got her to change football teams, for godsake.
But The Pixie has decided to override her teacher’s word on the “Baby baby baby oh!” song.
Such is the power of the Bieber.
PS. It’s nice to see you again, lifeslightlyused.
I LOVE reading your blogs. There I’ve said it. I have no more to add. xx
http://biancawordley.blogspot.com
You are too nice. Although, when I think about it, when it comes to praising my blog, noone can be “too” nice. Which is another way of saying MORE! MORE PRAISE! MORE!
Yeah – whatcha wear? You can’t leave out that vital info!
And … awwwwww 🙂
Nah, my mum was talking about my daughter’s dress. I thought briefly about dressing up myself but didn’t want to overwhelm everyone, like the time I showed up at a Eurovision evening wearing a plaited blonde wig to find that no-one else had bothered to dress up in the slightest.
A ‘blog wig’ is that anything like a merkin?
(*mysteriously*) Maybe… (*scuttled off to change “blog wig” to “blonde wig”.
I had a similar experience earlier in the year, dancing with Mr6, who is a natural-born Dad Dancer. We live for these moments. Sad but true.
“Natural-born dad dancer”… ouch! And from his mother, too! OUCH!
Actually, Mr Justice’s dancing style has always bordered on the Peter Garretts – there’s a lot of thrashing and jumping about. It can be quite frightening to behold.
Tiddles McGee, however, is extremely stylish. He fuses elements of punk, modern jazz, break and musical theatre.
I expect he won’t want me to dance with him when he goes to his first school disco because I’ll be cramping his dancin’ style…
what the heck, what am I welling up with tears over here? What are you trying to do to us? Tsk.
On the other hand though, ahhhh. *sniffle*
Just speakin’ my truth, little pooping reindeer. Just speakin’ my truth…
add this scene to the film script xxx
Aw, you and your film script ideas. I think this blog has enough for a three minute short, so far.
Will you play Mr NDM or will you want the much-coveted role of Brett the Principal?
Wonderful moment for you and your Pixie. The question is will you also be leading the Macarena at your 40th?
That sounds like so much fun. Look on the bright side, think about how much fun you will have embarrassing her.
That was a fucking top post, NDM.