Aquarium
Back in the Summertime, CJ and I visited the Wharf Restaurant and Aquarium in Merimbula. The restaurant is excellent (great food, great service, and a stunning location right on the water), and so is the aquarium.
We first visited the Wharf Restaurant and Aquarium on our honeymoon, and when we were about to pay we realised we hadn’t brought any money whatsoever. While CJ went home to fetch his wallet, the staff suggested I amuse myself by wandering around the aquarium (for free, which was very sweet of them). I fell in love with the giant cuttlefish – the same one that’s giving me the finger with its tentacle at the end of this video.
We knew then that we’d have to go back – and this year, we did.
A lot of couples have a “babymoon” when they get pregnant – one last holiday without children. It’s a good thing CJ and I had our babymoon well before we made Mini-Me. Apart from anything else, we ate a lot of seafood and drank a lot of wine.
Dreams of Mediocrity
Week 11.
Mini-Me is now larger than any of our fish, and most of the complicated bits are largely finished (eyelashes, ears, kidneys). This has indeed resulted in a marked improvement in my health. Yaaaaaaaayyy! I’m still eating almost nothing, and still moving cautiously, but I only feel properly (“imminently”, if you like) ill about 30% of the time – as opposed to 100% of every waking minute.
So I’m pretty chipper, despite not quite being able to take on students at home this week (I can sit up for half an hour most afternoons, but a full hour upright + mild brain activity is beyond me). On Sunday, I brushed my teeth for the first time in weeks. I didn’t use toothpaste and brushed section by section (“front top”, “back bottom” and so on), taking breaks in between. It took two hours altogether. On Monday it took forty minutes. Yesterday I was able to use toothpaste again for the first time.
*insert grateful ad for Extra sugarfree gum here*
I have only two weeks left of my first trimester (the 12/13 week barrier marks the time when normal folks START spreading the good news), which means I should have gained a little over a kilo – precisely the amount that I lost in weight just this week. On the up side, that means I’ve lost all the stress weight I put on as CJ and I were trying to conceive (which has its perks, but frankly I’d rather be as sick as I am than go through that don’t-know-if-we’ll-ever conceive-and-it’s-all-a-bit-weird experience ever again).
Also, I was given Mini-Me’s first mobile – which caused me to flip out both delightedly and immoderately. I particularly enjoy the disturbed expressions on the faces.
That mobile is the highlight of my week. I’ve hung it prominently in the living room, so I glance at it hundreds of times each day. My baby is on its way and all’s well with the world.
And so we move on to today’s actual topic: jobs I don’t want my future children to have.
Traditionally, parents like to be able to say, “My kid’s a doctor/lawyer/businessman/stock trader/prime minister/police officer” or similar. Who doesn’t want their kid to be fabulously important or wealthy or both?
Well – me. I think most of the rich professions come with too high a cost to the person’s home life, personal integrity, or ability to show compassion to people who need it. I’m a huge fan of a work-life balance.
And then there’s the other side of the “great” careers – writers, musicians, dancers, artists, and athletes. I definitely don’t want my kid attempting any of those. Those are the jobs with the least causal link between how much work you put in and how much pay you get out, which is really psychologically unhealthy. The entire writing community flinched when Snooki’s book was a New York Times bestseller (Snooki is a reality star who isn’t intellectually gifted enough to wear undies while doing cartwheels). My parents did a great job on encouraging my writing as a side job rather than full-time work. (The only reason I spend more time writing than doing paid work is that I developed an anxiety disorder that prevents me doing normal work.) I’ll be following their lead as I raise my own kids.
Finally, there are the caring professions – teachers, nurses, volunteers, aid workers, social workers, and counselors. I don’t want my kid doing those jobs either. They’re jobs that invade your home life and leave you poor.
So what kind of job do I want for my kids?
I want the kind that’s moderately interesting (but stays at work), that pays fairly (with regular raises in pay, good health and insurance benefits, and annual paid holidays), and that is common enough that if a bad boss comes along my kid can transfer to another section rather than enduring abuse.
In short, the public service is the best. There are literally hundreds of available jobs ranging from IT to training to legal to political work – and 99% are here in my home town. You can switch careers completely without switching departments (in fact, they’ll often pay you to go back to uni).
I certainly won’t prevent my kid from chasing whatever dream takes their fancy – but if they can follow in their father’s footsteps (CJ is a public servant and he really enjoys his workmates and job), I will be very, very pleased for them and their future family.
What is your perfect job? What is the perfect job for your children (imaginary or otherwise)?
Second-hand shops. . .
. . . are the awesomest.
All the couches CJ and I own are from op shops, including a sofa bed similar to this one:
I love this table:
And, if luck is with you (as it was with me several years ago), you can buy a wedding dress for a few hundred dollars:
When did you last visit a charity second-hand shop (to buy, not donate)? What did you buy? Did you play dress-ups while you were there?
PS Congratulations to Neil Patrick Harris on his upcoming wedding.
Sunsets
For today’s miscellaneous Monday, from author and blogger John Scalzi, a bunch of 2010 sunsets.
See the rest (including one taken in Melbourne, and one sunrise).
Needlessly Terrifying Machines
We visited cracked.com yesterday, so may as well visit them again today.
As I mentioned yesterday, this article is PG for swearing/crudity, but the site is MA.
The 7 Most Needlessly Terrifying Pieces of Heavy Machinery
If you never dreamed of driving a huge tank fitted with a giant chainsaw while growing up, then congratulations on having been a well-adjusted kid. As for the rest of us? Well, people like us grew up and built these machines for real. That’s why right this moment, somebody somewhere is behind the wheel of …
Read the rest (and see the pictures and videos) here.
Getting Published in 5 Steps (PG swearing)
At this location one writer describes his journey to publication. The home site is cracked.com, which is MA, and I think this article is PG/M.
How to Become an Author, in 5 Incredibly Difficult Steps
A while back, I wrote a non-fiction book about the apocalypse. Since publishing the book, the question I get asked the most has to be: “What are you doing in my toolshed?” Second place goes to “Is that my wife’s cocktail dress?” The third is- well, let’s skip ahead to questions not relating to a highly illegal fetish revolving around forbidden sheds and stolen evening wear. People usually ask me: “How did you get your book published?” Everybody wants to know how the process works, because they think that if they can just get the steps for this secret dance memorized, it’s all plaid jackets and [naughty bit removed] from that point forward. There are a lot of questions and answers for new authors out there on the Internet, but they always seem to skirt the subject in the name of preserving some sort of artistic mystique. As is the case with all nice things, I would like to ruin that tradition. I’ll talk to you about the publishing process honestly and unflinchingly, even when it makes the whole thing (and by extension, me) look kind of shitty.
Fair warning: This is not going to help you.
I didn’t actually initiate contact with a publisher of any kind. In fact, I didn’t even have a book to pitch when contact was first made. Somebody at the publishing house contacted me, out of the blue. And her email was caught by my spam filter.
Read the rest here.
#1 is extremely interesting, since – well firstly because of his legitimate point that an “advance” is almost certainly “all you’ll ever get” (which is why you NEVER sign a contract based on royalties only – any publisher that can’t afford an advance probably also can’t afford distribution, which means your book won’t get to shops, which means it won’t sell a single copy).
Secondly because the not-that-big figure he names as an advance is between three and ten times more than fiction writers get.
And here’s a consoling picture of a cat on a hot tin roof:
Fat pants
The best fat pants are pregnancy pants. I searched our local op shop for bigger board shorts so I could still swim regularly. The brown pair fit me that day, and I went for a swim immediately (the day before I became properly sick) and I figure the green pair (which have a drawstring, and which were most definitely part of the men’s section) will still fit me if I’m eight months pregnant with triplets.
Since it’s an charity secondhand clothing shop, the two pairs of boardies and a pack of shampoo cost $10 altogether.
Octopus in an expected place?
When CJ and I pootled about Merimbula’s beaches earlier this year (when it was, you know, warm), we met this guy:
It’s the first time I’ve seen an octopus in its natural environment, and we were both over the moon.
Not to be confused with Octopus in an unexpected place, one of my all-time favourite blog entries.
What’s in a name?
I’m at ten weeks today. Mini-Me is 3.5cm long (the size of these guppies) and can touch its toes.
Since taking Ondaz Zydis (and drinking sustagen for dinner most nights), I’ve lost only half a kilo this week (as opposed to two and a half kilos, which is what I lost last week).
I am cautiously optimistic that the worst is over – but I’m still not actually well enough to brush my teeth (or leave the house). One of the common side effects of Ondaz Zydis is stomach cramps, which I’m having in abundance (and which are not always distinguishable from nausea and/or imminent illness) – but the main thing is that I’m not ACTUALLY throwing up and that I’m eating or drinking SOMETHING three times a day (usually breakfast cereal for breakfast and a noodle cup-a-soup for lunch).
I’ll almost certainly be functional again in 2-4 weeks. I look forward to that distant horizon like Christmas. At the moment CJ is cooking, cleaning, doing dishes, putting dishes away, shopping, washing clothes, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, watering the plants, medicating the pets, cleaning the fish water, feeding the cats, brushing Ana, cleaning up cat vomit (both of them), buying medications, making a fuss of the neglected cats, taking care of library books, fetching me things from across the room (walking is still a bit iffy), entertaining visitors solo, looking after some of MY students, and working full time.
I usually – but not always – feed the fish every second day. That is my contribution to the household – that, and growing a mini human.
Anyway! I don’t like the idea of saying my children’s names online, but here are some random thoughts about the most popular 2010 names in Australia (from this site, which also tracks trends). All of them are off-limits for me on the basis of being too common.
1. Lily
I have at least two positive associations with this name, and I like that it’s easy to spell.
2. Ruby
For some reason this feels either trashy or old-lady to me.
3. Charlotte
I love the abbreviation “Charlie” for a girl, or “Lotta”. It’s always good when a name gives you options.
4. Chloe
Positive associations again (you know who you are). It’s Greek and means “young shoot” or “early foliage” which I don’t think is that great a meaning.
5. Sophie
Too fancy-sounding for my liking.
1. Jack
This name is fascinating, because it historically swings back and forth between being a swear word and being an extremely popular boy’s name. Phonetically, it is fantastic for both. The “a” is a strong, clear sound followed by the slamming door of the “k” at the end. It’s possibly the strongest single syllable in the English language (followed, for similar reasons, by the F-word).
Plus, you know, pirate.
2. Cooper
I was just thinking yesterday how many successful companies have “Cooper” as part of their company name. The meaning is “barrel maker” which really isn’t that exciting, except it gives an air of industry. Better as a company name than a personal name, I think.
3. Oliver
Okay, I can’t NOT start singing the song when I hear this.
4. Noah
It’s a good strong Biblical name (unless you remember that bit where Noah got really pissed and passed out buck naked). This is one of those unusual names that is two syllables but can’t be abbreviated. Personally, I love abbreviations – or any change in the usual shape of a name. When one of my students has a short name, I tend to add “banana” to the end to compensate.
5. Thomas
Again, a good Bible name if you’re not too familiar with the Bible (the phrase “doubting Thomas” may ring some bells). At least you have three name options – Thomas, Tom, and Tommie.
Conclusion: For me, the cultural associations of a name are important (eg I’d never call a child “Nigel” because it means “loner” in Australia); the ability to spell it reasonably easily is important; it should be familiar but not common to the average person; having plenty of nickname options is great (which is why “J” is a great middle initial – BJ, DJ, CJ, etc); it needs to be a gender-specific name (children have been shown to prefer to have their gender acknowledged in their name); it should sound good with our surname, including a natural rhythm; it needs an awesome meaning; it should begin with a different letter to everyone else in the house (basic name-remembering technique from writing books – goodness knows I won’t remember my kids’ names otherwise).
Middle names are for acknowledging family (assuming there aren’t any truly hideous family names – like Morag, Gertrude, Jedediah, or Judas).
Do you like your name? Why/why not?
Stay in
The view outside: There isn’t one.
The smell: Rain. And a hint of snow on the wind.
The sound: intense banging, crashing winds from the nearby mountains. Heavy rain. Birds screaming to one another. Sirens.
My plan for today: Lie down a lot. Do not leave the house for any reason. Receive a visitor in the afternoon.
Don’t you wish your plans were the same as mine?
Here’s a pic of a different storm, taken by my friend Richard Conan-Davies:
I shall now unplug the computer and go back to bed.
Felicity Banks 