Milkbaby's movie meanderings: Ernest & Celestine and Frozen

For Milkbaby's fourth birthday, we took him to Ernest & Celestine.  Here's his review.

Tell me about Ernest & Celestine.
It had a big ummm bear, called Ernest.  And a little mouse who was called Celestine.  Umm Celestine dropped the pencil, and the movie was great.

What was the best part of the movie?
The funny one, the big mouse.   He went "boof!" into the door. [giggles]

What did Ernest & Celestine do?
They jumped in the big house.  Celestine took a big bunch of teeth.  Where to?  To the doctor?  Did she steal them?  No. Ernest stole a whole bunch of teeth.  And that's the end of it.

Who was chasing them?
I saw a funny part.  It was the police holding hands and went "boof" into a wall.  It was very silly. [more giggling]

What else did you like about the film?
Nothing.

Were Ernest & Celestine friends in the end?
Yup.

But mama? We didn't talk about Frozen yet!

What do you want to say about Frozen?
There's two girls, and one girl went away and said

"Let it go, let it go
It's all very nice
Let it go, let it go
It's all very nice"  [Milkbaby sings this for me, somewhat tunelessly]

That's the song about the girl who was going away.

Where did she go?
She made a tall house and a bridge.  And.  Someone trapped her.  And it was locked.  And.  Uh.  The other girl came to her and tracked inside.  What happened then?  It locked.  They were huggling each other.  But the one he was coming back and the other one was pushing her away.  The guy?   No. The girl.

What else happened?
It's finished.  I want to say Germany wins. [Any guess as to what day we wrote this together?  Yup, the day that one country got their happily-ever-after ending.]

Mama's thoughts
Ernest & Celestine is a gorgeous, fantastical movie, from the creators of The Triplets of Belleville.  For anyone who has read the Ernest & Celestine picturebooks, as far as I can tell, this film doesn't attempt to adapt their simple stories; rather, it is the backstory of how Ernest & Celestine came to be friends.  And what a story it is - they both must overcome adversity (the mouse and bear Police officers go "boof") and their own personal challenges to realise their dream of staying friends.  Celestine is a courageous and smart female role model.  She stands up to the system, and to the "big scary bear" Ernest.  Ernest, voiced by Forest Whittaker, is her lovable and loyal sidekick.

And Frozen? Don't even get me started... I've "let it go" already.

Rating for Ernest & Celestine: ***** (go see it if you haven't already!)

My sweetheart the drunk

"It's like hanging out with a drunk person" I said to Captain Boringvoice.  We had just witnessed Milkbaby (now four) push over a large smoothie whilst trying to slide it back across the table to me.  Looking back on it now, even a drunk person knows you don't move a full glass of beer by applying force to the top of the glass.  "Think about it" I went on "- no voice volume control, repeating self, interrupting other people, emotionally volatile, lack of inhibition, argumentative..."

"Hmm" said Captain Boringvoice in agreement, looking at Milkbaby.  "Actually, it's probably more like hanging out with a drunk person who's also on acid", nodding my gaze towards Milkbaby.  At that moment, Milkbaby was using his fingers to create patterns in the maple syrup on his plate, then staring fixedly at each finger before licking it clean and repeating.

A quick google revealed that there's actually more to this comparison than I thought.  In short, the functions that alcohol impairs in the adult brain are quite similar to the functions that are still developing in a preschooler's brain.

It's all about the prefrontal cortex

The prefrontal cortex (the PFC to some, otherwise known as the bulbous bit of your brain immediately behind your forehead) is the smartest part of your brain.  It's the brain's brain.  Its job is to interpret messages from other parts of your brain, and turn that information into a response that reflects both present and future circumstances.  Take crossing the road.  It's your PFC that's saying, "hold it, I hear a car coming, it's not safe to cross now, okay, look the other way, yes, coast is clear, right you can cross now."  See what I mean about present and future circumstances?

The PFC: ensures you don't cry over toast triangles.

It's also the job of the PFC to exert control over the rest of your brain in social situations to avoid socially unacceptable outcomes.  So the next time you order toast in a cafe, and it's cut in triangles rather than squares, and for some strange reason it really really matters to you and you feel like you're going to cry about it or shout at someone but you manage to hold it together?  That's your PFC going "just hold it together buddy, crying about toast that's cut wrong will create a scene, and we don't want to do that now, do we?"

So let's just do a little tally up.  The main effects of alcohol on your PFC will mean you have:

• poorer spatial recognition and planning (if we take the crossing the road example again, your drunken PFC is going "how far away is that car?  is it a car?  whatever, just cross the road, I'm pretty sure that moving object isn't going to hit you")
• poorer recall and decision-making (need I explain?)
• lowered inhibition (possibly not lowered so much so that you are apt to shout "my wees are coming out!" across a crowded bar, but let's just say your tongue and voicebox volume control will be loosened up somewhat).

And what about preschoolers?

Well...  In humans, the PFC is still developing well into your twenties, and structural changes actually occur during the preschool years.  In short, your threenager is yelling at you for cutting their toast wrong because their PFC hasn't yet grown enough to tell them it's inappropriate to make a scene over such a minor matter.  

The PFC of a preschooler is also still developing its other areas of executive function.  Like decision-making and planning.  This is a pretty common conversation in our house most days right now.

"Honey, do you need to pee?  Because we're going out so it would be a good idea to pee before we leave"

"No."

"Can you just try?"

"NO."

"Please?  It's quite a long car ride and I don't want you to have an accident" [read: the back seat of the car is dubious-smelling enough already without adding another bladder-full of wee to it]

"NO NO NO NO NO!  I DON'T NEED TO GO!"

"Ok, fine, let's not argue about it."

[10 minutes later, on the motorway or some other place quite far from any weeing facilities]

"Mamma?  I need to wee."

"Okay, can you hold on until we find somewhere?"

"No, my wees are coming!!!"

"Okay, just hold on, I'm pulling over."

[As you can see here I'm quite calm and polite about a late wee disclosure, but Jebus it DRIVES. ME. INSANE. and it's usually all I can do not to shout "You've got to be f#@*ing kidding me!!  We JUST talked about this!!"]

Check out the concentration on his
face with all that PFC activity.

Finally, there's recall and decision-making.  Take a skill like covering your mouth when you sneeze.  That involves anticipation, recall, decision-making and a bit of social control for good measure.  It's quite complex when you think about it.  Such a function requires consistent performance from your PFC.  Some adults haven't even mastered this skill, so why is it that beat ourselves up over our child's inability to prevent the spread of his latest lurgy?  Milkbaby's been berated so many times we had this conversation last week:

Milkbaby: "Achoo"

Me: "Cover your mouth"

Milkbaby: "How many times do I have to tell you?!"

Me: "Exactly what I was thinking." 

So, next time you're hanging out with your preschooler, and you're wondering why on earth they're shouting at you when you're right next to them, picking a fight over the colour of their pants, or refusing to use the toilet even though you know you won't be near facilities for the next little while, blame it on an under-developed prefrontal cortex and pretend you're hanging out with a drunk person.

Or even better, a drunk person on acid.  Pretty sure that entitles you to lick maple syrup from your fingers in a crowded cafe.

Hello Mastitis, my old friend

This little ditty is a few weeks old now. As soon as I'd thought "well hello Mastitis my old friend" I couldn't get this damn song out of my fever dreams, complete with those ageing ex-folkies gently crooning it in my ear. At one point I was pretty sure Paul Simon had also invited Ladysmith Black Mambazo along for the ride, my head was pounding that badly.  Anyway, the song sort of works, though it gets a bit weird around the third verse.

The Sounds of Mastitis

Hello Mastitis, my old friend

You've come to make me sick again

There's a redness softly creeping

Over my breast while I was sleeping

And the fever that was planted

in my brain

Still remains 

Within the sound of mastitis

"It's all happening at the zoo."   [photo source]

To After Hours I went alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a medical lamp

Doc felt my breast it was hot and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of that neon light

He called it a blight

And touched the sounds of mastitis

And in the Doctor's eyes I saw

Ten thousand mothers, maybe more

Doctors talking without speaking

Doctors hearing without listening

Doctors writing scripts than voices never shared

And no one cared

For the sound of mastitis

"Fools" said I "you do not know

Mastitis like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you"

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed

In the wells of mastitis

And the doctors bowed and prayed

To the penicillin god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said 

"The future use of antibiotics is written on the wall

of museum halls"

And whispered in the sounds of mastitis...

Thanks antibiotics, all better now.  And Mastitis, I'm singing a different tune now.  It goes: I am a rock, I am an island... I have no need for (your) friendship, (your) friendship causes pain...

Here's the tune, from happier times in the Simon & Garfunkel partnership.

Strange conversation #3: the pain of childbirth

This is one from the memory banks that I've been meaning to record for ages.

We're at a wedding, Milkbaby in tow. I'm making polite conversation with strangers. The groom's sister is pregnant. We soon get to talking babies, pregnancy, childbirth.

"I expect it will hurt a bit" she says.

"Um, yeah, it's hard to describe. It's different for everyone, but for me it started off feeling like quite bad period cramps."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Yeah but then it ramps up." I'm struggling to find the words. I want to say something profound, but all I can think of is the bruising I was left with on my forehead from pushing my fists into my face during contractions. Not exactly a nice image. "But remember there's no pain between contractions, so you can relax and focus."

"Oh"

She's mulling this over. I scan her face, hoping I haven't scared the bejebus out of her. I look over her outfit. It's a quirky choice for a 'sister of the groom' look.

"I imagine it won't be any more painful than having your elbows tattooed." she says, somewhat out of the blue. 

I smile, keeping a poker face, as if she's just arrived at a sufficiently adequate comparison. "Hmm", I say agreeably.

"Because that was pretty painful."

I don't want to disavow her of this notion. Hey, who knows, maybe her labour will be no worse than the pain of having your elbows tattooed. Then again, probably not. It's better she finds out for herself.

"Yeah, it could be." I look at the mountains in the distance. "It could be."

What we're reading: The Tiger Who Came to Tea (reimagined)

Have you ever been reading an old favourite to your kids and found yourself cringing at how it's dated, or wanting to talk some sense into the characters?  The Tiger Who Came to Tea is a classic, and a favourite in our house, but on the last read through I noticed it needed a bit of an update...

 Seriously, what self-respecting four-year-old drinks tea?

Notice how it's only men knocking on the door?  Only these days it's more likely to be a courier with something you've bought off Trademe, rather than the milkman or the grocer.

And then, without a thought for their own safety, or even checking to see who it is, they open the door!  Foolish mistake.

This tiger has no manners.

See what I mean?  No manners at all.  But look at Mummy and Sophie's perfect manners.

Mummy was floundering a bit here, and seeming a bit useless.  Sophie knows better than to tell her to buck her ideas up, but thought it would be helpful to point out that Daddy was a dab hand in the kitchen and could probably get his own dinner.

Mummy knew just what to do about the lack of water.

Doesn't this picture just shout "Honeys, I'm home!"?  This is one cool daddy-o.

A cool, beer-drinking, plaid-wearing dad.

Daddy's also very rational and sensible here.  First things first, sort out the tiger sighting, then we'll do fanciful things like go to a cafe to eat dinner.

Mummy hadn't had a great day, what with opening the door without checking who it was, letting in a tiger, letting the tiger eat ALL their food (AND drink Daddy's beer), and then floundering around seeming a bit silly once he'd left.

That's right, they'll certainly be more careful next time.  Or maybe they just like having tigers to visit?

2014 Mother's Day Awards

I wanted to write this post for Mother's Day, but I've been busy.  Was it just me, or did mother's day seem like a big deal this year?  There seemed to be a ton of mother's day activity on facebook, and companies doing all sorts of mother's day promotions.

Anyway, I've got a few Mother's Day awards:

Mother's Day more-viral-than-chickenpox award: This one about the world's toughest job was a bit of a viral hit.  Not sure what the company was selling, but if 1% of the 19 million-odd viewers bought whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it was worth the effort.

Mother's Day will-make-you-cry-like-a-baby award: goes to The Honest Toddler for "I Don't Know if I Love You".  So, so, beautiful.

Mother's Day most interrupted sleep-in ever: goes to me.  By the sixth interruption at 8.30am I gave up and just lay there, pretending to sleep.  But faking it wasn't quite as good as the real thing, so after 10 minutes I got out of bed and headed for the shower.  Interruptions as follows:

• a baby needing a full outfit change (I hopped out of bed to help)
• a toddler saying he just needed to "calm me down" [cue hair stroking]
• a falling stack of DVDs [cue exclamations from mother in law]
• the baby being brought back in to our room for a sleep
• the glass shattering on our oven door [thanks to Captain Boringvoice and his brother who thought they'd do some house renos]
• the vacuum cleaner sucking up the shattered oven door.

Thankfully the rest of the day was not quite so disturbed.

As the day ended, and I rocked The Sailor to sleep, I realised that this would probably be my last Mother's Day with a baby.  I rocked him a little longer that night, savouring his warm little body tucked against me, feeling the fuzz of his head against my lips.

What we're reading (and doing): Getting to Know You

In this digital age, when [almost] everything humanity knows can be found online, and reading is something you do on some handheld device, I sometimes wonder how kids of today (and the future) will fall in love with books, and by extension, reading.

That love affair must start as early as possible, with simple, easy to read board books.  Babies must learn the something special smell of a new book, the texture of its pages, and the thrill of discovering a story as the pages are turned.  It makes me sad to think there are children in New Zealand who will grow up without books in their house.

Lately, we've been reading Getting to Know You.  Published late last year by Niche Books, it's the perfect book to read to your new baby.  The book centres around the routines that characterise life with a newborn - and reminds us that these routines are not to be treated as tasks to be ticked off - they are opportunities to enjoy some space with your new one, inside that weird parenting bubble that envelopes a house for the months after a baby is born.

"change and chat while the world whirls..."

[translation: next time you're changing your infant and you're focusing on not getting shit everywhere, take a moment to take a breath - through your mouth mind - look up, make eye contact with that gorgeous baby and have a chat]

The text has a gentle cadence and rhythm, and is memorable enough for a toddler to learn so that they can "read" it to a younger sibling.  Milkbaby's favourite line - the one he always skips to - is:

"take my time / to breathe you in"  

As you can see, there is poetry here.  This is a board book with a story, albeit a simple one, and it beautifully and thankfully goes beyond those boring name-the-object books you see everywhere.  You can guarantee if a book is boring for you, it'll soon be very boring for your baby.

It's well known that babies are fond of looking at photos of other babies - and this little book will satisfy these cravings.

The Sailor, 10 weeks old, growing brain cells
and falling in love with books.

What's best about these photos is that they're photos of real people, and real babies, in their own environments.  I can say this because Milkbaby is one of those babies in the book, and he was definitely photographed amongst the mess of our own home.*  Heather has a way with babies, and an eye for capturing those moments of 'mutual gaze'.  You can almost see the baby brain cells multiplying.

If you want to know more about mutual gaze and getting to know your baby during those early baby days, watch this gorgeous video.



And if you want to get your hands on a copy of Getting to Know You (go on, you know you want to!),  ask for it at your local independent bookseller or order it here.



*Disclaimer: neither myself nor Milkbaby have any financial interest in the success or otherwise of this book - but it's been a hit in this house so we want to see it do well!