I'm going to do it.
Today however has been dedicated to a teething baby, boisterous six year olds and the resulting sleep catch up and brain decay.
So there's not a lot to say.
Watching: Masterchef, Stargazing Live, One Born Every Minute (and being grateful Neighbours is back after the Christmas break).
Listening to: David Guetta. No, I didn't see that coming either.
Reading: Charles Dickens, Great Expectations just now. His complete works are on my Kindle, we'll see how that goes.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Perfect programming
Smug parenting. Oh yes. How I despise those who drive their kids to school and give the reason not as:
It's too far
or
We're too lazy
but for the following self satisfied reason:
Because they "love their children too much" and they can't bear the thought of anything bad happening to them so they have to take them right to the school gates.
Uh huh. And that can't be done on foot because...?
Smug. I told you.
And smug it is when parents sniffily state that their children's precious eyes are never tainted by viewing - shock - television, whilst muttering about other, lesser, parents using the television as a "babysitter".
Smugly, I conclude that the reports indicating any damage caused to children is referring to garish, loud, unsuitable tv. Or tv being prioritised above things that children just do, like run around. Not saintly CBeebies, for the amount of time before some guff like Mama Mirabelle comes on.
CBeebies can be quite wonderful, and I can credit it with my (genius) children learning the following:
Shapes
Colours
Numbers
Which is no bad thing. Ok, so I reinforce it forcibly, but how marvellous to have initial ideas placed in their minds in a colourful and cheerful manner. I have waxed lyrical before about the greatness of CBeebies. But there's news!!
Conveniently, for we are at the perpetual questioning stage of "what does *** start with mummy?" while nursery intros their names and what they start with, CBeebies has a new programme entitled Alphablocks.
Oh my.
There are - spookily - 26 characters, each a letter of the alphabet. They hold hands to form sounds and words and are animated charmingly. Each speaks in a manner to most emphasise their letter sound; they have stories whereby they try and solve a problem by linking up to each other to form words until they find the word that solves the problem.
They make more sense than that and form a quite wonderful introduction to letters and words, where I had failed to get across any more than the names of the letters.
There is much cuteness. Q is portrayed as a mad woman constantly pursuing U. T is a doddery old man who loves tea. X is an "exciting" superhero who writes an x in the air with a "cks cks" sound. O is overexcitable and says "oh!" a lot. C is annoyed by K for stealing her sound. And so on.
I love this. It's brilliant. Click the pic, excuse the twee titles, and see for yourself:
As to the "babysitting" element? You have to watch with the kids - which is why this house no longer shows In the Night Garden - or they'll know more than you. When demanded to make something, you had better remember how Mister Maker did it...
It's too far
or
We're too lazy
but for the following self satisfied reason:
Because they "love their children too much" and they can't bear the thought of anything bad happening to them so they have to take them right to the school gates.
Uh huh. And that can't be done on foot because...?
Smug. I told you.
And smug it is when parents sniffily state that their children's precious eyes are never tainted by viewing - shock - television, whilst muttering about other, lesser, parents using the television as a "babysitter".
Smugly, I conclude that the reports indicating any damage caused to children is referring to garish, loud, unsuitable tv. Or tv being prioritised above things that children just do, like run around. Not saintly CBeebies, for the amount of time before some guff like Mama Mirabelle comes on.
CBeebies can be quite wonderful, and I can credit it with my (genius) children learning the following:
Shapes
Colours
Numbers
Which is no bad thing. Ok, so I reinforce it forcibly, but how marvellous to have initial ideas placed in their minds in a colourful and cheerful manner. I have waxed lyrical before about the greatness of CBeebies. But there's news!!
Conveniently, for we are at the perpetual questioning stage of "what does *** start with mummy?" while nursery intros their names and what they start with, CBeebies has a new programme entitled Alphablocks.
Oh my.
There are - spookily - 26 characters, each a letter of the alphabet. They hold hands to form sounds and words and are animated charmingly. Each speaks in a manner to most emphasise their letter sound; they have stories whereby they try and solve a problem by linking up to each other to form words until they find the word that solves the problem.
They make more sense than that and form a quite wonderful introduction to letters and words, where I had failed to get across any more than the names of the letters.
There is much cuteness. Q is portrayed as a mad woman constantly pursuing U. T is a doddery old man who loves tea. X is an "exciting" superhero who writes an x in the air with a "cks cks" sound. O is overexcitable and says "oh!" a lot. C is annoyed by K for stealing her sound. And so on.
I love this. It's brilliant. Click the pic, excuse the twee titles, and see for yourself:
As to the "babysitting" element? You have to watch with the kids - which is why this house no longer shows In the Night Garden - or they'll know more than you. When demanded to make something, you had better remember how Mister Maker did it...
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Who or what I am
This is weird. I'm turning into someone that's completely alien to the person I was until very recently.
Most noticeably, why am I turning into a vegetarian? Why? How has this happened? How can I go for 32.5 years happily eating everything that doesn't look like a pet and is conventionally edible, then suddenly bam, I don't like meat? That does not make sense. Fish I've been struggling with for a while, both from the point of view of fish rights (why is it less cruel to kill a fish?) and from the fact that it suddenly started to taste all fleshy, then bacon suddenly became vile. My mum was talking about lamb, and there is No Way on this planet I'd eat it. Tonight I had a expensive and perfectly cooked piece of roast beef for dinner, nearly gagged when I was carving it, and had to force it down, only because it was expensive and I'm having palpitations at imagined lack of iron. That pretty much leaves chicken and turkey which I fear have a very limited life on my menu. All very nice and all, but I never do anything unless I do it with boundless enthusiasm and I live with a vegetable hating carnivore. And it's a little disturbing, I was a fairly gung ho omnivore until very recently and I am not the sort of person that follows popular trends, the fact that it's more common now thanks to Hugh Furrily-Witteringand Jamie Oliver is usually precisely the thing that sends me off to the abattoir (so to speak).
Having never disliked men in any way shape or form since before I can remember, today I have turned into a man hater. This is the singularly most unlikely thing ever to happen to me, seriously. Prior to today I was much more into silencing feminists, now I'm having these disturbingly feminist-ish thoughts. No reason either, if I'd been unceremoniously dumped or something, that would possibly explain it, but no, I just have a new personality. Not one that hates men to the extent of liking women I may add. Just to clarify.
In addition to being unable to write, I appear to also have forgotten how to read. I can't do it. This is unfortunate and may well severely interfere with my studies, which won't matter in the fullness of time, I'll no doubt wake up tomorrow with a passion for gardening and won't care tuppence about transport any more.
My imagination, paranoia and hypochondria are still intact and functioning as normal, there's still a little of me in here.
Most noticeably, why am I turning into a vegetarian? Why? How has this happened? How can I go for 32.5 years happily eating everything that doesn't look like a pet and is conventionally edible, then suddenly bam, I don't like meat? That does not make sense. Fish I've been struggling with for a while, both from the point of view of fish rights (why is it less cruel to kill a fish?) and from the fact that it suddenly started to taste all fleshy, then bacon suddenly became vile. My mum was talking about lamb, and there is No Way on this planet I'd eat it. Tonight I had a expensive and perfectly cooked piece of roast beef for dinner, nearly gagged when I was carving it, and had to force it down, only because it was expensive and I'm having palpitations at imagined lack of iron. That pretty much leaves chicken and turkey which I fear have a very limited life on my menu. All very nice and all, but I never do anything unless I do it with boundless enthusiasm and I live with a vegetable hating carnivore. And it's a little disturbing, I was a fairly gung ho omnivore until very recently and I am not the sort of person that follows popular trends, the fact that it's more common now thanks to Hugh Furrily-Witteringand Jamie Oliver is usually precisely the thing that sends me off to the abattoir (so to speak).
Having never disliked men in any way shape or form since before I can remember, today I have turned into a man hater. This is the singularly most unlikely thing ever to happen to me, seriously. Prior to today I was much more into silencing feminists, now I'm having these disturbingly feminist-ish thoughts. No reason either, if I'd been unceremoniously dumped or something, that would possibly explain it, but no, I just have a new personality. Not one that hates men to the extent of liking women I may add. Just to clarify.
In addition to being unable to write, I appear to also have forgotten how to read. I can't do it. This is unfortunate and may well severely interfere with my studies, which won't matter in the fullness of time, I'll no doubt wake up tomorrow with a passion for gardening and won't care tuppence about transport any more.
My imagination, paranoia and hypochondria are still intact and functioning as normal, there's still a little of me in here.
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