MrsBrown's philosophy of life and stuff

I had a lovely play on the piano with Rose this evening.

It was late and we were both avoiding her bedtime.  We sat together at the piano and I played the songs she's up to in the book we've got out for her.  She showed me the pieces she already knows and then I watched the lightbulb go off when she worked out she could read the finger numbers to work out what notes to play.  She played the new song a few times, practising her newly discovered technique.

Then she asked me what the 2/4 numbers meant, and I played her new songs again, while counting out loud for each bar.

I'm really enjoying watching her learn to play.  She doesn't have a teacher or formal lessons, she just has 4 adults who'll variously play the piano themselves and will pay her a bit of attention when she's interested.  She'll also sit at the piano and play for herself - this afternoon she modified one of the pieces she's learned because it "sounds lovely" when she changes the last phrase.

I was keen for my other children to learn music.  I spent money and made them practise.  It was crap and they learned little until they decided to take it on for themselves.

Now the three children at home are having a lovely time playing around with music and teaching themselves.  They're even inspiring me to sit down occasionally.

Yesterday, Mordwen posted an extract from qamar's blog about the development of gender stereotypes, particularly in children.

I started to post a response, but it's more about me than I think is reasonable in someone else's blog, so here's a story about me and my experiences of gender.

qamar quoted a study I had spent some time talking with my mother about when I was a teenager.  I guess it was part of me working out my own gender identity.  It's the study where babies are dressed in "boys" or "girls" clothes and then the behavior of strangers towards the babies was observed to be dependent on the clothes the babies were wearing.

My first gender related story is of a memory I have of being about 4.  I remember standing in front of a mirror, I was wearing blue shorts and a striped t-shirt.  It was summer and I was looking at myself and wishing, wishing really hard, that I was a boy.  I spent most of the time until I hit puberty trying to be mistaken for a boy. It still makes me grin when people mistake me for a man, or call me "mate".

After MrPeacock was born I remember not buying a pink skivvie for him.  I noted at the time what I was doing, but decided to go with it.  I didn't have that problem for Sneetch - he wore his sister's handmedowns, even the skirts until he was about 3.5.  I was always amused to take him to childcare in a skirt and pick him up wearing pants.  He stopped wearing skirts when he decided he didn't want to.

When MsNotaGoth was about 4 I gave her a haircut.  As I did it I realised that I was making it look worse and worse, so I cut it all off, leaving it about 2cm long all over.  After that she spent more time playing with boys because they were more likely to include her in their games.  She also played with girls happily and I concluded that it was worth this piece of subterfuge to broaden her play options.  Maybe it's time to cut Rose's hair?  

I was interested to see how small boys defined gender.  Until MsNotaGoth went to school she was quite happy to wear dresses, they were her favourite clothes.  Then, after a week at school, she refused to wear dresses anymore.  The boys had been teasing her as if she were a boy wearing a dress.  She didn't wear a dress again until she was about 14, and still won't wear dresses without a dressing up reason.  Then again, I'm pretty similar.

Another time, maybe just before she started school, we went camping for the weekend with a group of extended family.  She was found with her pants around her ankles proving to a group of boys that she really was a girl.

In terms of my boys questioning stereotypes, I guess I've made a bit of a fuss about MrPeacock and his attitude to clothes.  Would he be called MsPeacock if he were a girl?  I love how he dresses and I love it when he's stood in front of the mirror discussing the exact cut of a piece o clothing, but I also feel a little bit uncomfortable and guilty in relation to my pleasure.

I think I've encouraged his interest in clothes - I've always praised him when he chooses clothes that match well, I've gone shopping with him and I loved it when I was choosing his clothes and could put him in interesting colour combinations and make him look great.

My children have always had a different view of gender to your average child.  We always delighted in telling them about their father's dress and makeup collection and I didn't own any makeup until my wedding 6 years ago (tomorrow!).  I work in a non traditional area and frequently do stuff (I can't think of anything right now) that other women don't do.  And then I muck it all up by having 4 children and enjoying cooking and sewing.  I guess their Dad mucks it up too by calling himself a feminist and then behaving/speaking aggressively towards women advocating feminism in a way that excludes him.

Anyway, with Rose life is more interesting again.  Her father has a much more traditional view of gender than the other kids dad did, and I'm more relaxed about just enjoying what ever person she becomes.  I have much less interest in playing games with society than I did when my other children were small.  I just want her to have a good time, and not feel that she has to fight with stuff all the time.  OTOH, we still seem to have trained her not to cry when she falls over, and to enjoy playing with blocks, trains, cars and computers.  I'm also pretty sure I would have estimated her crawling abilities accurately.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, and MsNotaGoth is calmly writing the preparation for her SAC.

I think parent teacher interviews this afternoon helped - they all told her how fabulous she is, that she's a leader in every class she's in. Her English teacher also told her that she didn't think her essay writing difficulites are related to her abilities and we just need to sort out her anxiety and she has the potential to do very well.

Great. But now I'm stuck at the kitchen table keeping her company so she feels comfortable just doing it. And I don't have to do anything. And just then, I made a suggestion and "completely ruined" her train of thought and she's had to go out to the pell to get her mojo back.

I'm not allowed to sew, I'm not allowed to pack for Festival, I just have to sit here, surfing and wanting to do stuff.

What can I do that will get me further along my three major tasks - Festival prep, Midwinter stuff, and Innilgard tent making?

PS I love my parentin icon. It really reminds me of the tin tacks of being a parent: there's hard work, there's pain and there's blood. There's also a whole lot of boredom while being supportive.

a headache, an upset tummy and an inclination to lie down and close my eyes.

I'm still cutting out MsNotaGoth's dress though.

in between little rests on the couch.

good thing: I finished the petticoat today. Gee, tulle is hard to sew! It loooks a bit wonky, but I'll put the dress skirt over it and see if it's a problem.

I'm working on my new frock for Winterfeast, but I've solved the problem and now I just have to do the work - boring!

Next problem solving exercise - making a petticoat for MsNotaGoth's formal dress.

She wants what I now know is called a poodle dress and needs a crinoline.

Here's a bunch of links with photos and some instructions. Deep in some of the comments on blogs are great suggestions for finishing and wearing them.

two sets of instructions - and a photo

If I were a different person, and they sold one in the hot pink MsNotaGoth wants, I could buy one of these

Yay! for Dress a Day, good hints in the comments

Instructions for a really simple tulle skirt but I think it wouldn't make the right shape.

ETA

I should have stopped there, but then I found this picture and this one.

I like the second one, but I'm not sure I have the sewing skills for the back detail.

ETA ( I should have been working but had to restart Firefox so I could finish installing Quicktime, so I could watch a movie on a firends page and I didn't want to lose a fabbo page.)

I found this page of petticoat pictures in my tabs and I don't remember getting it. But it's good.

It occurred to me this morning as I moaned to myself about how crappy my mood is today, that maybe I can blame my mother.

When I was 6 my parents separated and, according to my mother, I became very depressed. Mum took me to a psychiatrist who asserted that I blamed myself for the breakup and put me on Lithium, one little red pill in the morning and one in the evening, less on weekends when I visited Dad who disapproved of giving a six year old medication for depression.

I remember going to see the psychiatrist, I quite enjoyed my visits. Again according to Mum, they cooked up a plan to encourage me to read a lot. That it would give me an escape.

We now head to my adult life and I find my head in a book whenever life is a bit difficult. Except it doesn't feel like it should be difficult at the moment, most things are fine; I just hate the world and wish everyone would fuck off.

This fortnight I've read the Vorkosigan saga, from beginning to (almost) end. I've read in the tram on the way to work, and home again. I've spent evenings reading on the couch and then headed to my bed to read a bit more before bed. When I've woken in the early morning and can't get back to sleep I've read some more.

I know I've spent a couple of holidays in my life reading for a few days and usually gotten to "I wish everyone would fuck off".

I'm wondering if I'm making myself depressed, with a pavlovian response put there when I was 6?

OTOH, I am worried about MsNotaGoth.

She's avoiding a SAC for English Language and she can't give up this subject like she did Psychology a few weeks ago. Avoiding a SAC means she's also not attending school. She went to Drama yesterday, but hasn't really _been_ there since last Thursday.

In my head she's always been the one I've worried about and I've doubted her ability to do stuff.

It's taken a steady stream of friends and acquaintances singing her praises to make me believe in her ability to manage life and her world and when she does this, I'm still not convinced.

I worry that my attitude to her makes her more helpless, so that the right thing to do is to sit on the sidelines and watch, as she makes her own way in the world.

But she's my daughter.

mishymoocow_2 and splodgenoodles have been talking about perfectionism lately.

When MrPeacock was small I spent a lot of time investigating giftedness (more for me than on his behalf I realise now). One of the things I found helpful in calming me down and giving me a positive outlook on the perfectionism that I realised was paralising us both, was an article including hints to put perfectionism into perspective and quote to inspire me. I kept both in close view for a few years and I thnk they helped.

I'm pleased to have found them again, because I think MsNotaGoth might find them useful as she goes back to school this year. They're going back to the toilet wall.

So here they are:


( A Few Hints to Help You and Your Children Cope with Perfectionism )

( And the quote )

My children have gone. They are off touring the world* for the next 5 weeks, and MrPeacock won't be back until just before christmas. I took them to the airport and managed to avoid becoming a blubbering mess, although I could have if I'd let myself. I just developed a small leak as I hugged MrPeacock. And I'm only leaking a little bit right now as I write about it.

It's going to be very quiet around here. I wonder if I need to bother having a mobile phone, 'cos they're the ones who mostly ring me?

OTOH, this is such an opportunity. Major furniture reorganisation is planned, and, if we can find the money, a certain amount of renovation of the Family Room while it's empty of furniture.

Of course, we're also heading to Christchurch during the 5 weeks MsNotaGoth and Sneetch are away. Also sewing for Coronation and bridesmaidery, AND attending a couple of SCA events. Never mind the supervision of reasonably active toddler.

We'll see how far we get. Maybe they'll come home to a housing disaster.

btw. Rose is still here, she's not "my children", she's my baby.

*Hong Kong, UK, Greece, Italy, France, Holland, Germany. MrPeacock has a work visa for Germany so I expect he'll be there for the rest of the year.

I read this article in The Age today and I'm interested in the assumption that all 16 year olds are suffering the stress of studying for the VCE. MsNotaGoth has finally made a decision about her future (for now) and decided to stop going to school, so she's not one of them.

I think I'm going to enjoy the chirpier, more positive and self disciplined person she seems to be at the moment. This evening she washed the dishes without prompting, and has just taken herself off to bed so she can get up at a reasonable time in the morning and start work on removing the paint from my weatherboards. A job I offered to MrPeacock a few months ago and he hasn't gotten around to.

The current plan seems to be to work for me until she goes overseas, and also spend the time looking into tafe courses and maybe apprenticeships, with a view to doing one of them or getting a job when she gets back.

We'll see.

I was forced to watch Robin Hood this evening. Something I'd crossed off my list of things to do when basal_surge wrote his review of the first episode. The piece of dialogue that sticks in my mind:

Beloved Retainer turned bad: "I shot the sheriff!"
Sheriff as he steps into view: "No, you shot the deputy!"

The striped t-shirts and Robin's hoody were also amusing. And, what was Marion wearing?

- Sneetch and Mr Peacock spending the afternoon cutting vegetables for the roast

- Mr Peacock's comment during the meal, "every vegetable has been corrupted by fat and heat"

- the joy that mr_bassman, Sneetch and Ms Not-a-goth got in putting Rose's present together, and apart, and together. It's been a trike and a push toy at least twice each. Rose likes it too.

- the achievement of the happy family, without having to pretend, until 3.30pm. It couldn't last.

We seem to have started a family tradition. I have always (since having children, and only on the years they're home) had pancake breakfast with berries and cream on Christmas day. Last year my Oma and the kid's Oma came on their way to their main festivity. It was great and they asked if we could do it again. Then my sister invited her family over too. It was nice enough to do again.

I had a cunning plan to buy berries at the supermarket after they'd been marked to half price but mr_bassman and I were having too good a time singing carols to the people in Eltham so we got to the supermarket after it closed. Luckily, (actually, I knew I had a backup plan) I had some jars of cherries in the pantry, so we had black forest pancakes instead. Cherry pottage, chocolate ganache, pancakes, cream and ice-cream.

I only slightly over catered for the 10 of us, not including two babies. Please come to my place for morning tea, afternoon tea or dessert very soon. I have enough for at least twenty.

Note for next year: I may be considered too old for this, but good christmas gifts are the ones you can play with on christmas day. I didn't want to re-read a book.