musing on bubs ...

ROFLMAOWDB *with discarded baby*

Leunig, you're an old, entitled, outdated, archaic dinosaur - but a useful one for starting this conversation so I toss an irreverent salute your way Gramps

you have often made me laugh - you did so again with this 'misdrawing', but for all the wrong reasons

but on to bubs that are much nearer to me, both in location and in my heart

the odd part of living life near the fringes and between or outside the lines, and of being a writer so therefore an observer, is the unexpected joy of translating between members of diverse communities

I kid thee not, while living in Seoul, I often had to translate the English-ish spoken by Irish friends to that spoken by US buddies. The best language job I ever had was accompanying an official group to a multi-Asia summit, to repeat what was said in English heavily accented in one accent in an accent neutral enough for all to understand. I also earned major KRW for a morning facilitating a workshop at a Town Hall Meeting - basically inviting people to speak, closing them down when they needed to share the mic and reporting back to the main meeting over a gourmet lunch at the luxury hotel this took place in (breakfast and coffee and morning tea were also included - I would have gone as a guest for that alone!)

that facilitator role has not lessened here in Melbourne, but the communities I span and the intersections between them are equally diverse

one such intersection is between a group of new-ish parents, grandparents and carers and their children, and the mostly lovable dinosaurs at my bowling club, where I volunteer at Bubs and Bowls when available. I check off names, offer tea, coffee and iced water and usually bake something (a couple of children came straight to me this week asking for cupcakes and I couldn't deliver - I also give lessons in disappointment - but they settled for shop-bought biscuits)

the bowlers  and managers set up a bouncy castle and get out blankets and balls and set up the urn for coffee and tea (and race to the shop when the milk has turned or we're out of tea bags)

but those who are there at that time are usually either of a generation who weren't involved in child raising or who don't have children

working at a different club, which has an abundance of child visitors, I look around a green and identify dangers, and try to mitigate them or warn carers of their potential

cue Wednesday's conversation:

Bowler: There's no wind. We won't anchor the castle.

Kiwi: Anchor the castle - the big kids can push it over.

B: Keep them out of it.

K: *looks at B, shakes head internally, thinking 'ermmm, it's Bubs and Bowls'*
Anchor the castle, it's a safety issue.

*castle anchored*

(To his credit, a pair of bowls was passed to the Kiwi mid-Bubs morn and she left them on a table in the bar. When she went to find them later, they had been moved by the Bowler, as they were a safety issue. Well played!)

having worked as a nanny in the past (yes, yet another role in an eclectic non-career path), I slot in with the carers and children well, and wrangling children is often easier than wrangling drinkers

I also have good friends with multiples, including an unexpected friend who is extremely special and who shares her wonderful twins and their older brother with me

one mum told me of one male family member who, when she referred to motherhood as her second (and busier) job, replied that it wasn't 'real' work though, was it?

I relish the chance to help these new parents, whom mostly only get to look at their phones while in the bathroom, and that will only last until the precious little angels / utter hellions start crawling and then even bathroom time becomes shared

if I can hold a babe while a mum plays with her older brother, or enlist the help of a young dad to guard the cookie jar while I'm away picking someone or something up (we have our own cookie monster who climbs well and can smell sugar through an airtight canister - he's also a fabulous problem solver so no cookie is safe)

so I offer a response to Leunig, also in verse:

Leunig was chasing relevance

Attainment of which had a helluva chance

While mummy womaned on

Disregarding his scorn

As less import than what filled her bubby's pants