On Funnel Web Spiders, Small Boys and Dung Beetles*

My sons crack me up.  This is a Good Thing, because a year of solo parenting 4-5  days a week is beginning to get to me, and my sense of humour is starting to wear thin.

When possible, I eat dinner with my children so that we can discuss their day.  Today's hot topic was what could only ever be a winner in terms of hilarity; Dung Beetles.  It all started innocently enough; Boy #2 is doing a school project on insects and arachnids, and his chosen creature for closer study is the infinitely cute and cuddly funnel web spider.

To quote a fellow blogger in her hilarious post today (thanks, Jennifer); of course it is.

Spiders are not my preferred creepy crawly, you see.  It took me until I was a grown up (aka; a parent) to be able to steel myself to collect one, ever so carefully, into a pint glass using a piece of paper to hold my nemesis safely inside until I could deposit it safely out of doors, as far away from the house as possible.  Oh, I do it without screaming (nowadays) but only because I'm trying to model 'don't be silly, it's just a spider, nothing to be scared of, nothing to see here' behaviour for my sons.  Amazingly this approach has paid dividends because now not only are they convinced I don't mind spiders, but Boy #1 is so laissez-faire about them that he will do the spider collecting for me.  I call this successful parenting - and a Result, with a capital 'R'...

Anyway, where was I?  Ah yes, funnel web spiders.  Which, by the way, as a spider that can leap a few feet, is not one I will be collecting in a pint glass with a piece of A4 paper over the top any time soon.  Especially since I am now in possession of additional information from my younger son about both their habits and the colour a 'victim' (his words, not mine) turns if they are bitten and not given the antidote pdq.**

So.  The funnel web spider conversation was freaking me out, to be honest; evasive action was required.  For some reason we turned the conversation to beetles.  Well - I turned the conversation to beetles.  And then his older brother moved it onto dung beetles (he's 9 - why was I thinking he would do anything else?), and so help me, I went for it.  Because I knew my audience, and what 7 year old boy would not be distracted from his fearless pursuit of knowledge about spiders by talking about a beetle that - essentially - collects poo for a livelihood?

Boy #2 was initially unimpressed.  "What's a dung beetle, Mum?"

"Well, it's a small beetle.  It lives in Africa."  I could see my younger son's attention beginning to wander.  "Is it poisonous?"  "No, it's not poisonous."  "Can it jump?  Does it LEAP, out of woodpiles, at people and...other victims?"  "No, it doesn't leap or jump." I was losing him, I could tell.

But Boy #1 came to the rescue.  "But it collects dung, Boy #2.  DUNG!"

There was a blank look from his younger brother.  "Dung?  What's 'dung'?"

I bit the bullet.  "Poo.  It collects poo."

A moment of silence.  Then:  "Poo?  It collects POO? WHY?"

Boy #1 stepped in (since, frankly, I wasn't sure).  "To eat.  And to lay it's eggs in."

Another moment of silence, whilst Boy #2's eyebrows climbed up into his hairline.  Then; "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"


Ah, the old craptastic trail.  It never fails to entertain...


*  Well - all the SEO advice says to title your post descriptively...
**Blue, if you were wondering.  You're welcome.

Could do better...

Yesterday was not my finest as a mother.

I am feeling like a complete heel for two reasons. Firstly, I nearly forgot a long-planned tea party in Boy #2's class where they presented their findings on 'Animal Habitats' and showed their proud parents (or at least - the proud parents who made it on time) the books that each of them had created about their preferred animal.

Luckily for me a good friend with a daughter in the same class noticed my absence - and Boy #2's long face - and phoned just in time to ask if I was coming. I think I made the quickest school run ever, and turned up just in time to earn a beaming smile from my son, and to learn the reason why spiders have been the topic of conversation for the last couple of weeks in our house.

Whisper it softly, but I'm not keen on the creatures. Unfortunately, Boy #2 appears to have mistaken the slight edge of panic in my voice whenever I'm forced to discuss them for enthusiasm. If I have to see one more picture of a Goliath spider*, or retell him the story one more time of a friend who, whilst living in the Australian outback, used to shut her car windows and drive as fast as she could to try and rid the hood of Huntsman spiders* creeping towards her (they had had been sheltering in the engine of her stationary car but once the engine started, decided to climb out through the radiator grill and menace the driver), I may not be - well, very happy.

* Note - do NOT click on either of the above links if you have any kind of phobia about creepy crawlies. I think I went above and beyond the call of blogly duty just finding them, frankly - and was very careful not to read the text or check out the pictures too closely when I did...

Anyway, that was Mothering Fail #1 today. (We are of course discounting the raised voice this morning when both Boys had to be reminded for the third time to Put. Their. Snowpants. On! because frankly, I think that was merited. It was either that or resort to calming chocolate, and 8.05am is too early to break into the stash of Green & Blacks, even for me).

Mothering Fail #2 was yesterday evening, when I was far too testy with Boy #1 after bathtime as he overfilled a glass of water, from the cooler. I mean, it was a glass of water, for chrissake. Only a glass of water! So some went on the floor. Does it really matter? No. Whatever happened to my usual mantra; 'pick your battles'?

Snapping at kids just before bedtime; never good practice. Not a 'good mother' thing to do. And so I went upstairs, metaphorical hat in hand, to apologise to my older son. After we made it up, I was left to dwell mawkishly on how my sense of perspective / proportion / patience (all the 'p's, it seems) seemed to have made a joint decision to knock off early. It's no excuse, but it had been a long day and as bedtime approached all I could think of was trying to sit down at the computer and make headway with various jobs* I hadn't had enough time to finish due to an unscheduled airport run with my husband first thing.

*Not the least of which was trying to make blogging / freelancing / part-time employment work more effectively for me and which - as with so many things - I've been de-prioritising for far too long. More of which on another post...

I think I need to take a big dose of chill-pills and repeat as follows:

Check your diary every day. And - breathe...