Squawk has graduated away from Duplo and on to "little Lego" or "big girl Lego", as she calls it. Or, as I call it, the proper stuff.
I mean, Duplo is surprisingly versatile for its size, and I'm sure you've all seen my attempts at robots and towers and dinosaur cars over the past year. I think my all-time favourite was her Dad's rendition of the village of Briskwater, with red blocks for hearts, a puppy standing in for the hunter's mule, and the part of the little dead girl being played by a zookeeper:
But let's be real: now that I have the proper stuff, my life is officially 700% more awesome.
the bad, with a silver lining
Squawk brought home a case of conjunctivitis/sinusitis this week, which she of course passed on to me (and then re-caught back from me, because naturally), so the both of us have mostly been feeling sorry for ourselves. The (sarcastically) awesome consequence of having a child is no sick leave, so we spent the week being very gentle with each other, walking slowly to minimise the aches in my head and because I couldn't get enough oxygen at any given moment. The (actually) awesome consequence of having returned to work is sick leave, however, with built-in childcare, so I did get to spend a couple of days (sadly non-consecutive) passed out on the couch.
I chose to spend it binge-watching episodes of Fringe, and I'm now halfway through the third season. I love the characters (Olivia Dunham in particular is fabulous, and ahead of her time in many respects, and I particularly love the way she was almost never (in fact never?) damselled during the first two seasons), but pretty much the entire first season and for much of the second, I couldn't for one moment forget The X-Files, the influence of which showed through all too readily. Although I will say one thing about X-Files which drove me crazy was the handling of the conspiracy aspect, which quickly became a desperate race between the viewers wanting to know more and the writers not quite having decided what lay at the base of it all and so simply loading on more and more and more mystery and confusion and I for one lost any and all confidence that the writers knew what they were doing, or even what they wanted to do. Fringe doesn't fall into that trap, thankfully,1 and now that it's hit its stride and departed from the influences that gave it birth, I'm loving it more and more.
the obligatory reminder
- ironically enough, given "Fringe" is created by J.J. Abrams, who, in "Lost", is famous for making that exact same mistake [↩]