My Kid and My Many Corsets

I find it funny that I still get messages and invitations from the various Gothic night clubs that I used to regularly haunt with my friends.  Most of my clubbing friends have trickled away over the last few years from when I became a Mum and I have found myself doing a lot of assessing and introspection.  It does amuse me some times when I think back and remember my days modeling alternative Gothic designers’ outfits on the catwalks. 

Once I would never have left the house without Gothic, Punk, Mod or Rockabilly makeup on and dressed accordingly.  These days I am lucky to have even a skerrick of foundation on.  I think the last time that I wore a corset (I think I own at least 5 or 6) would be perhaps two to three years ago.  Maybe even it was at my Wedding where I wore a leopard print corset which I had made up by an expert especially for the day.  I had two different sized red petticoats and made by myself two leopard print full circle skirts, a knee length one for the ceremony and a short one for the reception which was held at a Gothic nightclub owned by people I used to once know.

So this could sound to be very distressing and hint that I may have ‘let myself go’ but I think it has a lot to do with being comfortable within one’s own skin.  I can still dress to the max but at this point there is no reason to because I just don’t go out to those kind of places any more.  I am so content to stay at home and look after my little one.  I am comfortable knowing that I have had a wild time of it when I was supposed to, living life with a little daringdoo and now it is time for my little one to grow and take me for granted as his Mummie.  I’ve probably said this many times before but it does beg repeating, I think perhaps that this is being comfortable with aging and definitely having met my purpose.

I am not saying that all the party and daringdoo has gone from me but I am saying that for now, I want my son to feel that he is my priority.  My Husband feels the same way and that amuses me as well.  He was a Punk rocker in an outrageous band in the 1980’s but today, Pixel is his whole world.

I do intend to get back to applying basic make up though; nothing too scary just yet, except of course when it comes time for Halloween!

Nicky Knackie Knackers!

We often go to the Red Star Café and it is a bit of a ritual.  It is near to Pixel’s kinder and whilst he is at Kinder, I would sit at the café and study, study, study.  Pixel was aware that I would go there and would ask for chinos too.  I sometimes would get a take away for him which he would polish off at the end of kinder or we would go there after Kinder together for a treat.  He loves those biscuits in the jars that are placed temptingly at the front of the counter like at most cafes and one biscuit is almost as big as his head.

One day Pixel and I met his Aunt (of the broken leg infamy) and his Nanna for lunch.   It is a great café for boys as it has rockets, stars, planets, a giant train and a uni-motor bike as decorations.  There are also a lot of small things to look at.  Beside our table was a tiny cupboard with knick knacks in it.  I made the mistake of saying knicky knackie noo.

Pixel thought this was great and stood by the door yelling out knicky knackie noos at the top of his voice at the Red Star.  Most people at the café thankfully were charmed.  I suppose nowadays people are just happy that a kid isn’t swearing.  Pixel came back and then pointed out that the little cupboard behind us was empty.  He decided to call it knicky knacky nothing!  All fun at the café. 

Yet here’s how these little nothing moments of charm leap up and bite you later.  The next day, his Dad warned Pixel to be careful of his knackers as he was carelessly leaping into his trousers, to which Pixel replied without missing a beat, “Knickie Knackie Knackers!”

Micky Cow, Wendy WhearHol and John Yeannan

Pixel has become a fan of the Velvet Underground.  Of course he is still a mad about The BeaTles, Bowie, The Buzzcops, Alice Cooper, The Vampire Lovers, and so on but he is going through his discovery phase with the Velvets and loving them. 

Early in the year, somehow, John Lennon (Yeannan) became his imaginary friend.  It would go something like this, “John is sitting in the chair.”

“ Oh is he?”

“Yeah, John Yeannan” and he would point to the chair next to him.

Then it turned into Pixel being John Lennon.  He would march up and down the corridor and then say, “John is walking.”  (walking, jumping, sitting, and so on).  I figured that given Liam Gallager had trod this path as a grown man, Pixel perhaps should have got it out of his system by adulthood. 

He also went through a Buzzcops (Buzzcocks) phase where he had to wear his leather jacket, even in the heat and have it zipped all the way up and put his hands in his pockets – just like the lead singer.  I was thankful when that phase became less intense.

Last year of course was mostly the year of Micky Cow.  This was a character that Pixel invented for David Bowie based on his lyrics.  Pixel needed to wear blue to be Micky Cow and had Bowie’s moves down pat.  He even made me do a photoshoot with my mobile phone camera as he posed for me.  He would pose, then say “Mum, take the photo” and I would. I have to say they came out pretty well too.  I have no idea where this behaviour came from and could only think he was posing for his future album cover. 

Later in the year he pushed my hair upward and called me Mummie Cow.  His Daddy said “Hang on, that’s pretty harsh.”  I had to remind him that it was a complement as it all came from Micky Cow.

His Velvet Underground phase has introduced him to Andy Warhol.  It is lovely that he accepts so many things at face value.  He calls him Wendy WhearHol as it is much easier to say.  I hope that he says that , even just once, when he is at art college!

Countless hours of pleasure kids can give, can’t they? 

One morning he was a little irritable and I said you are very grumpy today and he said to me, “I am making the grumpy.”  Awwwwww

In term 2, one of his kinder teachers thought he was hilarious one day when he fell over on the path and hurt his hand.  Rather than cry, which would be expected, he jumped up and held out his hand and yelled, “It’s ruined!”  Sometimes I think he is a crazed scientist in the making or a lead singer like his Dad, either way, he certainly has a flair for the dramatics.

A few weeks back I kissed him and my nose bumped his eye and he said accusingly, “you broke my eye.  It’s broken!”  What can I say but sigh?  I have a big nose, what can I do?

So many funny things that he says, I want to try and remember them all and write them down for prosperity.  Precious little moments that are very soon gone and lost in the charge forward to grow, grow, grow!