Monthly Archives: November 2013

All About You

This week, The Lounge has opened its doors to learn more about you.

 

 

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Although I reads loads of blogs, I don’t necessarily know a great deal about the blogger.  I’m looking forward to checking out some of the back stories behind the written words.

 

Their motivations.  Their history.

 

So please link up and share your page.

 

Remember, it’s all about you!

 

Love,

Robo X


Kidsumerism

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for visiting The Lounge once again…

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You can add your link below.

 

 

I’ve always wanted my kids to have a childhood similar to mine.

It’s a romantic notion, but the memories of tearing off my school uniform in the afternoons, downing a Milo and running out to play with the neighbourhood kids are sentimental and they’re perfect.

 

Noses weren’t buried in screens and toys were something you used when you had to come inside.

Play, with its mosquito bites and grazed knees, with its grass stains and dirty fingernails, was organic, free and dripping with creativity.

 

 

I’m not comfortable with the idea of any entity dictating how my kids should think.  I don’t want my children becoming slaves to consumerism, marketing and branding.  I want them to be smarter than that.  Even at this young age, I want them to have some intelligence on the saturation of media around them.

 

 

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Bill usually got it right.

 

 

Now, in the lead-up to Christmas limiting the gimmicks thrust before our kids is important to us.  We want them to make decisions about what they’re playing and to make sure they actually like and want their toys – not because someone is telling them to do so.

 

 

So whenever we see a cool toy, especially a pre-loved cool toy, we tend to pick it up.

 

Here’s a few beauties that my son adores.

 

 

Mr Robo’s own 1987 Cobra Super Copter electronic game.  Still in fine working order, this relic is powered up only for extra special rewards.

 

 

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Vintage Tonka fire truck.  Mr Robo salvaged this one from a lady who was throwing it out. She’d bought it second hand for her own son, 26 years ago. One man’s trash…

 

 

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Circa 1970s army truck bought by me at the Balmain Markets.  This baby’s as heavy as they come.  Like, irresponsible-parent-heavy.

 

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I hardly ever discuss parenting with others – it’s individual.  And Mr Robo and I parent with our own style of logic and instinct and others may not entirely approve.

 

But I desperately don’t want my kids developing traits that I find off-putting in other people.

I want them to see beyond materialism and labels.  I want them to listen to stories, to understand where things come from and to appreciate the value of their belongings. 

 

 

I just think it’s really important.

 

What do you reckon?

 

 

Love,

Robo X


Waste Not

The events of last week left me feeling flatter than usual. So when Friday night finally arrived, all I could do was make myself comfortably numb, close my screens and set myself up on the lounge to reflect.

 

 

Life, aside from the predictability of the routine, is OK.

Nothing bad has happened to me?

 

 

Last week, I had the opportunity to see life from the perspective of someone less fortunate.

And I’ll tell you bluntly, what I saw was fucked.

 

 

The incident was on my mind all week.

I still think about it now.

 

 

When I find myself complaining, I remember.

When I think about my kids, I remember.

When I noticed too many lights on in my home tonight, I remembered…

 

 

And I got up and switched them off.

 

 

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Because some people rub sticks together to get their light.

Because some people don’t have a magical white switch to flick.

Because some people don’t live in homes, with lights that they can leave on.

 

 

I was angry with myself last Friday.

First World Fuckwit’s Syndrome.

Guilty.

 

 

But sometimes it’s good to be angry.

Anger puts a fire in my belly. It makes me want to do something.

Something worthwhile.

 

 

Do you get FWFS?  What puts the fire in your belly?

 

 

Love,

Robo X

 

#IBOTing for the first time in ages over at Essentially Jess


Reality Reminder

Today, during second period, two of our senior students left their classroom without permission.

 

 

One was hysterical and the other was crying quietly behind her.  It captured our attention.  Both students had lost their fathers – one to illness and the other to war in the Homeland.

 

They had been watching a historical film. It had triggered buried memories.

 

The second girl regained her composure and returned to class.  The first girl sat in our staffroom sobbing for another half hour.  She sat and she sobbed.  Her scarved head was bowed, her whole body was shaking.

 

 

She stared at a yellowed photograph.  My colleague said she rubbed the picture with her fingertips, caressing the face of a man she had never met.

It was the only photograph of her heroic dad.

 

 

We offered to scan the photo and send it to another colleague who could Photoshop the cracks and creases, to somewhat bring the only image of her Freedom Fighter back to life.  She asked if we could put a picture of her next to his and I told her we could do anything.

Tomorrow we’ll print the photograph and buy a frame.

 

……

 

 

So this week, when I’m asked about my favourite things, I actually feel my stomach churn.  Today I was brought barrelling back down to earth – shaken by the story of this seventeen year old girl.

Measuring my worth and happiness in material possessions feels futile.  It’s nice to have nice stuff, but the high from nice stuff is incredibly fleeting.

 

 

Today, my favourite things are my family, our safety and our health.

 

 

 

That’s all.

Love,

Robo X

 

Linking up with The Lounge over at The Very Inappropriate Blog.

 

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