Holy mother of God

I hate cockroaches.

I hate cockroaches.

Jaysus I can barely even get my fingers moving to type...

As soon as it starts warming up in Queensland, these filthy, repulsive, devil-bidden bugs start crawling out of the pits of hell and up our walls...

Not only that, but (for the unitiated), Queensland cockroaches @*!?%# fly...big fluttery, paper scratchy WINGS.

I hate them.

I am almost reduced to tears just typing this, but I have to get it out. We had one in our house the other morning. It was dead (well, lying on it's back by the bathroom door and giving every appearance of being lifeless) but it still managed to wrest a scream from the depths of my soul and turn my legs to jelly.

I am fairly sure I have a cockroach phobia. I have an aversion to all flying insects and most creepy crawlies but the one that reduces me to tears and hysteria like no other is this guy. They are simply gruesome - the murky brown colour, the crunchy shell, the spiky legs, the looooong waving antenna...simply the way they move around the room...and the way they FLY. Why oh why, God? Why do they have to FLY?

Just before my 5th birthday, my first brother was born. It was a hot December morning and somehow I had managed to get him out of his cot without my parents intervening and had take him into the lounge room for a nurse. I was sitting on the edge of the brown couch when I felt something on my leg. Looking down I saw a gruesome beast making it's way up my leg. All I recall after that is my dad coming out (probably in response to my screams) and letting go of my newborn brother.

On another balmy Queensland evening my extended family were out at a resort in Surfers Paradise. Having stuffed ourselves senseless at the buffet the kids and uncles were wandering through the resort pool and gardens. The moment is burned in my memory and I recall that I was wearing my puffy blue and white polka dotted "Shirley Temple" dress. I felt something at my throat. It felt like a scratchy leaf. I reached a hand up to flick it away and instead my hand closed around a flubbering fluttery bloody giant of a cockroach. I screamed, of course.

As her four children started to get older my Mum decided to enclose a section of verandah to create an extra bedroom. It was properly constructed (walls, not curtains) but for some reason the bugs simply refused to relinquish what had previously been open air verandah. On a number of occasions I woke up with something crawling on me. Flicking on the fluro would reveal the hideous brown nighttime visitor. I recall one night that I woke up to a sound and when I switched on the light discovered a cockroach was not even ON me yet - I'd become so paranoid that I could hear the tiny scritch scratch of their spiky feet on the wall.

Since then I've had various other close encounters but I believe these were the ones to really concrete the phobia into my psyche. Whilst at uni I used to phone my old flatmate (Kim) to come over to my new place to remove cockroaches. She'd grown up in PNG so was braver than I - I who would be reduced to a shaking, clammy, sweating mess at the mere THOUGHT that I might have glanced one out of the corner of my eye...

Oh, I had another episode when I lived in one of the last dodgy little duplexes in Mermaid Beach (off Hedges Ave aka Millionaires Row). The screen door had been taken away and the Giant Winged Variety used to make their way in and get comfy. The night before I was due to start work in my first ever REAL teaching job, one flew into my room as I sat up preparing. Now, technically these beasts are not supposed to like the light but this fella was quite keen. I phoned my Mum (she was 2 hours away, it was midnight and NO she would not be coming to kill it) and in the end had to resort to sleeping in the 2nd bedroom (this was before I had a flatmate) which had only an old stinking, double ensemble left over from the previous tenant and a newspaper in it. I squashed the newspaper into every crack and crevice, laid some out on the bed, curled up on top and had a fitful sleep. I was also late to my first day at work.

My fear of the beasts is all consuming. I lose all sense of reason and rationality. From about mid-thigh down I lose feeling. I taste vomit. My hands shake and my palms sweat. There have only been a few (VERY few) rare occasions on which I have not had this physical reaction to a roach sighting and nearly all of those involved me having something to drink first. Last summer one flew in and I ran straight out the door, leaving my 2 year old to defend herself. I could not bring myself to go back into the house.

In Scotland I discovered something magical (and indeed, this may be the primary reason for my enduring love for the bonnie northern land). THERE ARE NO COCKROACHES IN SCOTLAND!!! Okay, so maybe there are some of the pale wee German variety, but those I can handle. It's the big brown winged beasts that send shivers down my spine.

It took about 6 months over there but I finally freed myself from the compulsive habit of entering a room/switching on a light and automatically checking the ceiling, cornice, every corner, edging and floor before entering. I didn't have to throw back my covers before hopping into bed. I could leave my window open WITHOUT A SCREEN!

And now I'm thinking about going back to Scotland via Asia and Europe. I had spoken to a friend who spent time in various places in Asia and she reckoned the roaches weren't that bad, and on this I have put my trust throughout the TESOL journey. Until my Mum started laughing at me yesterday, thinking about me taking on the roaches of Asia. So I sat down and googled, and sure enough, Mum is right. Not only do they have filthy flying bat-like roaches, they even have the German ones. They fly in, they come out of drains...they are in restaurants, in garbage...

My worse nightmare would be to survive the nuclear holocaust - and be the only human survivor...because there would be nobody to call to come kill the critters!

Beast shown is actual size - AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Early Childhood

Some of you may be wondering what a Secondary teacher is doing dreaming of teaching letters and numbers to tiny tots...you were? Great!

I've never really been convinced that I 'belong' teaching a particular age group. Sometimes I think all those years of organising my siblings and cousins into playing schools was more about me as an organiser or manager than about me as a teacher.

I always looked over the shoulder of my primary colleagues with great envy whilst at uni. I was GREAT at handwriting - I wanted to do a whole semester on handwriting! Making a model of a volcano? I wanted to do that! Learning the guitar? Are you serious? I have a dusty guitar lying in the corner of my room right now! And they get to do ART! Argh! My 3rd year (primary) flatmates in my 1st year thought I was nuts doing secondary when clearly I was born to be a primary teacher. But I seemed to get along with the other "secondaries" so much better than with the "primaries", and I was fascinated by the History component of the course - sometimes even by the English lectures.

I remember being close to tears on my first prac when Katherine was practicing her lesson in preparation for lecturer assessment visits (the principal of the college was coming to do ours). I was teaching Ancient Egyptian genealogy to Year 12s I'd never met and she was teaching the letter B to a class of year 1st who adored her.

When I travelled to Scotland I felt even more strongly about teaching primary and it was part of the reason I allowed myself to be convinced to move to London - the supply teaching agency would allow me to work in Primary schools. It was interesting and infinitely preferrable to supply teaching in London Secondaries, and I had a couple of job offers, but Scotland drew me back. Up north it was hard enough trying to get a job in my own subject areas, let alone branch into something new. The GTCS see to it that all teachers remain rigidly in the areas they trained in in their early 20s when they didn't know better.

I love History. The only job I've ever enjoyed was teaching History in Stornoway. I've thought about working in museums or in heritage, but in Australia at least, I'd need further study and history teaching experience - impossible as they've squished my beloved subject into SOSE so it is no longer recognisable.

Then along comes my own preschooler, and a short contract with a local prep/1/2 class and I start wondering again...

So this is the age group I am hoping to work with whilst teaching English. I will miss the teenagers...sometimes.

Holes in your nose

Miss M got this book out of the library last week:

It is quite mind bending to read but she is fascinated by it. When I noticed the Japanese name on the cover it got me wondering whether or not it was related to the book "Everyone Poops" that I remember Rove having on his show a few years ago.

Sure enough:

http://beeskneesbooks.blogspot.com/2008/02/boogers.html

If I am struggling to spend time with Miss M now, how will I cope when I am working 8 til 6 (possibly) 5 days a week, in a foreign country? On one hand I know it will make the time we do have together more precious as it will be the only time we have. We will also be alone and probably won't have TV (or at least, won't be able to understand any of it!). We will hopefully have the chance to do lots of wee trips together.

I am also hopeful for a job where she will be allowed to attend the school. Some stories I've read of more rural schools seem to paint a more flexible picture. I've also found an advertisement for a part-time toddler room job. Mornings only. Naturally working part-time might mean we can't afford to live (especially when I am supporting a child as well) but at the same time I have discovered the variances in pay between international/expat style schools and more local schools. The latter advertise salaries about 50% of what they are offering in the expat schools. Not all the expat schools are exactly that - some of them cater for local students but simply follow an international curriculum.

At the moment it looks like the going rate in China (this is for a fully qualified teacher) is around RMB 10 000 in local schools or early childhood centres and RMB 20 000 in International schools. So feasibly, a part-time role in an International school would be a brilliant stroke of luck. On top of earning the same as someone in a language school, I would also expect to have accommodation and airfares included, as well as visas, medical, tuition and et cetera.

The job is through one of the larger recruiters who send me out job mailers all the time yet cannot find the time to respond to my emails, so I am going to have to bombard them. There's a whole other post in that...

To come full circle, while Miss M is currently engrossed in nose picking and boogers, Mummy is currently reading 'Eat, Pray, Love' which has such widespread rave reviews that I couldn't help but purchase it (especially as it was 50% off). I am about a 6th of the way through and although the writing is great, it is a little irritating and I am worried that I might end up putting it in the crap book pile. I hope not. Even Julia Roberts and Oprah have bought copies for their friends.

Procrastination

I cannot fathom what is the matter with me. Before the course books came I was so hyped for Tesol and ready to complete the whole lot in a couple of weeks and be...GONE. Now I find I can barely lift the cover (that's if I can find the books at all).

Firstly, it has to be studying alone...by distance, whatever. It is quite desperate at the best of times but in this case (in comparison to my 3 previous experiences of study via distance), the college really have abandoned me to my own devices. There are no online or phone tutorials (although there is a tutor I can contact via email. She is in Melbourne, I think). There is no 'Blackboard' or virtual learning environment where I might interact with other students. There is no schedule for learning and actual checkups as per the Gaelic course with Sabhal Mor Ostaig.

It's just me and these bloody books...and don't get me started on them! FRUSTRATING! It feels like there should be a second book to explain the first. There are huge gaps in information - and I am a bloody English teacher! A few activities I've worked through so far have been so sparsely explained I've actually had to email the course tutor - unheard of in the history of saoghalbeag studying!

I think it is also difficult because I am not based in a school to be able to apply the learning - or even to assess the learners themselves and comprehend where they are coming from.

There is also the one parent family procrastination. I find it impossibly hard to knuckle down for real study when she is around. I know I am going to be interrupted the minute I start so I don't. Start. I do everything else possibly possible before I start the TESOL - which means it usually starts around 4pm when there are no toddler programs on telly to distract her and she's starting to get tired and cranky and hungry and then I decide I should probably bath her and start dinner anyway...but by this stage I am getting desperate to at least do SOMETHING of the course so instead I persevere. I also feel guilty that here I am learning how to make learning fun for other people when I can't even find a spare minute to work on an activity with her. So I will make a cake with her or make a mess with paint and glue, or go into the garden...

We now have a fully landscaped and manicured front yard thanks to TESOL.

Frustration

I have neglected the blog...again! I am still here. Have just lost the will to blog in this past couple of weeks.

Firstly, I finished with my environmental education job and we are poor as dirt. The company had some crazy issues (or namely ONE crazy issue who verbally abused me after I spent 2 hours driving to the office on HER command only to be told my being there was pointless and costing them money! Staff turnover of 14 in under 2 years in an office of only about half a dozen is all I can say - shame on the Board!). They also had only one tour booked for the whole of term 4 so I figured it was an appropriate time to concentrate on finishing my TESOL course, doing prac, maybe even getting some work. The plan was to move to the Coast as there are numerous English language schools there and...NONE here.

This brings up the accommodation dilemma: my sister and I share a house that we bought last year. If I move away for work we need to rent it out - but where does she go? To our mother's...? What about the rising prices of rent on the Coast - unaffordable on a single income (which is not even guaranteed)? Not to mention it will be difficult to get a lease for less than 6 months so that puts all my plans out...I looked into staying with my Grandmother but before I could put the suggestion to her she was hospitalised by illness...

WHY IS EVERYTHING SO BLOODY DIFFICULT???

I also made myself sound like a numpty as the language schools started phoning me and I had to keep saying I was "waiting to hear back from my Nanna before I considered any posts"...

On top of that, of course, is the childcare dilemma.

Sometimes I really do wonder if there is any way I could give up my daughter for a month or 6...could I do it? Could she handle it? Would I handle it? They used to do it all the time in the olden days - had too many kids so the older ones would be shunted out to barren aunties or to be maids or lackeys in big houses...But I regret it instantly and know that I would sooner severe an arm or leg than let her out of my sight. I can barely sleep when she's not in the room or if she spends a night at her Nanna's. I get bored and listless when I haven't seen her for a while. I find it difficult to do things we always do together (like go to the shops or have coffee) without her. (word to the wise - do NOT look up the spelling of severe on google images. I nearly puked!)

Frustration...(well whaddya know, it's already a TAG!)

Other blogs

So...given that I was going to be a librarian in a place early convict settlers described as 'the mouth of hell', I thought a great name for my blog (down there) would be something along the lines of "the librarian at the end of the world" or edge of the world or ... you get the picture.

Google informed me that sadly, there was already a librarian at the end of the world and I would have to try harder. Of course I went for 'the librarian at the OTHER end of the world' but then not getting the job kind of got in the way of that blog.

So, who was this librarian at the end of the world? Imagine my delight to discover they were in Scotland! And the westerly islands to be precise! Given the name (silversprite), and the profession (librarian) I was (terrible generalisation) expecting an elderly man or woman with a twinkle in their eye. I am pretty sure this is not how silversprite would be described in real life.

Photo from silversprite also available in the Berneray 2009 Calendar

Anway: a plug for the blog if you have not already found it from my links to the left. Brilliant photos, interesting anecdotes from Berneray (island he lives on). There's also some IT speak that goes on which usually leaves me feeling hopelessly inept and old but hey, that's how I found out about Second Life before the Australian media...:)


Another brilliant, brilliant blog is Shauny's 'What's New Pussycat'. That one has been in my Favorites (sic) for a few years now. An Australian girl in Scotland - how could google not bring me this delight the day I got my computer and plugged in the ADSL??? And yes, that's pretty much how I found the blog. There's heaps more to Shauny - even the really old stuff (I am embarrassed that she has been blogging for YEARS and YEARS - and that I had not discovered it. I stupidly thought blogging was relatively new and that it had not been around when I was travelling, but NOooooo, I am just ignorant!) The pic is from a recent entry discussing the infamous British Washing Up Tub/Bowl.


Of course, there is Prague blog, which I think I've already mentioned. Found this one when I was looking into Tesol a couple of months ago. I really want to go to Prague now...but baby steps! I think it's called Delayed Gratification - I think it will be good for me to live in Asia for a while. And everybody says it is good to gain experience there. If I also manage to save some money these will both help in Europe where apparently you can't get jobs without experience and they don't provide accommodation and other perks that seem to flow freely in Asian countries.


And Angus keeps me abreast of Scottish politics...the only politics that have ever managed to make me cry, or even to capture my attention for more than 5 minutes. They may not let me vote but they will never take my freedom to pretend I did! (I won btw). He also manages to explain away many of the nagging questions I had after living in the Western Isles for a few months in 2004 (schools, ferries, windfarms...). Photo from recent entry discussing the axing of nearly 100 workers at a local fish processing plant. You can read it here.

There are others, but these are the main ones that have me rushing to my laptop instead of tending to my daughter...

Working 9 to 5...

Okay, I'm not. I have a toddler and I am studying - I work part-time. Or at least I did, but the organisation I work for have let the program slide into ill repute so only one group booked for this term. I am on the move, anyhow, and recently sent off my CV to a few English language schools on the coast. I have not finished the Cert IV yet (that would be a miracle!) but hoping my existing teaching quals will help out.

I really want to get some experience before I go overseas, plus now that I'm getting into the workbook I'm so keen to get into a classroom and try things out...

Plus I need the money. Starting to freak out as the days count down to January and I am still on the poverty line.

Wrote off to Select Education (aka Teach Anywhere) but they are the strangest teacher recruitment agency in the world. They flood me with mailers and poorly punctuated/spelt/grammartised emails about teaching positions all over the world but will not respond to direct questions. Hopefully they are not like Smart Teachers, who would also bombard me with job lists, then refuse to respond to my applications and subsequent emails wondering if they even got them, and further emails asking if there was a reason I was not being considered...

English teacher for sale!

To balance - a good book

A long time ago, in uni, or perhaps even the end of high school, I remember a very short friend of mine (not that her height has anything to do with this...) spending a very long time (but that was neat!) reading a very thick book...

I think it may have been part of our English curriculum as my recollections of the film are all stop start and broken images which usually indicates that the film was "studied" (ie: mercilessly destroyed of any chance to be appreciated by mad English teacher with a remote). The only part I really remembered from the film (which may actually indicate that even WORSE than "stop-starting" the teacher only let us watch "segments"...god how that used to irritate me!). I can't imagine...oh, forgot to say the part. It was the beginning, where the girl is forced to marry/sleep with someone she doesn't want to and she runs away.

Anyway, I can't imagine that it was on the school reading list. I would have read it as I did not start skipping the reading of books until uni - ironically when I started my English literature degree, so outcome achieved by the uni!

Anyway, Katherine carried this book around for so long that it is forever associated in my mind, with her. A while back I found it on special for a few dollars and I bought it...but despite being a confessed bookworm/nerd/avid reader, it has sat on my shelf for well over a year. It is just so frikken THICK!

However, all this talk of teaching English overseas and possibly going to Asia reminded me of the book. Plus I am trying to cut down on my consumption of murders and crime shows, which is all that seems to be on TV at the moment (I am watching City Homicide, Bones, The Strip, Taggart, Rebus, The Bill, Midsomer Murders (which I swore I'd never watch!) and probably some others I can't even recall...sad, sad, sad!). The only show outside this genre is Shameless, which although possibly the most brilliant show ever made, is pretty much all about crime (drugs, prostitution, underage drinking, child neglect, welfare fraud...)

So I read it and it is brilliant. An amazing book - why did I not read it before? Although I am glad I did not as I may not have been as receptive to learning about Chinese culture as I am now that it is a possible home for us next year. It is so insightful into the Communist regime that I understand why it was on our English reading list (in fact I can feel the English teacher rising up inside of me shouting "YES! Put that one on the list!" and I even had a few scary moments of imaging activities to convey the lessons in the book to students...argh!)

The book was a bit of an epiphany to me. If I can speak in the language of my CHC lecturers, it produced a paradigm shift, altered my worldview. It made me feel like a lazy fat Australian slob and I admit that when I see people who have Asian features in the street or the shops (not so common in Noobah but I do get out of this town sometimes!) I can feel myself perceiving them in an entirely different way. I don't want to sound like Tamara but I really was a bit like her in terms of thinking about Asia and travel in that region. Blind, ignorant and awfully condescending. My heritage is in Europe and since travelling there my future is there also, but I that is no excuse for being ignorant of the rest of the world. I think because of the vast numbers of people living in the Asian regions, as well as (what I think is) dehumanisation of them in our media (ie: desensitising us: thousands die in an earthquake in Thailand and it is glossed over UNLESS there happens to be a 'westerner' in the rubble).

I don't want to speak too soon as I don't actually have a job lined up yet, but it is feeling like deciding to go to Asia next year was a good decision, or even the 'right road for us to be on' if you want to get all freaky like that.

The books came!

My Tesol books came in the mail yesterday!! Delivered out here in the sticks by my sister. Wee daughter and I are minding the caravan park for Mum while she is off galavanting.

Strangely they have provided guide books that look like workbooks and workbooks that look like novels...bit frustrating really as I would like to take the texts and workbooks with me overseas but they are too bulky. They also mention CD copies of readings and workbooks on their website but so far no sign of these...

I read through the guidelines for study last night. It was almost like starting Year 8 again: reading everything from cover to cover...(nerd!).

<-- How things were looking about midnight...yes, that is the Collins World Atlas peeking out. Despite having (briefly) been a teacher of Geography and winning a Geography competition when I was in Year 11, I still mix my Bratislavia's with my Uzbekistans...

At least I am more motivated for this course than any of my previous Tafe misadventures. The best part (now that I've read Unit 1) is that (unlike previous Tafe course) this all makes complete sense to me and I know the answers to the questions without thinking!

Apart from reading the books and worrying about whether I want to write into the workbook (it looks like a novel or a travel guide, dammit), I am looking for jobs. Oh how I hate job hunting. Plus as much as I'd like to take on a job overseas, I don't have enough money to fund travel at the moment.

Thinking about New Zealand again: managing a hostel there. I've also noticed a few jobs teaching English in NZ (more than I've noticed locally) so perhaps this would not be a bad starting point? Go and chull wuth the Kuwus fur a whulle, hehehe.

(the extent of my knowledge of all things Kiwi)

Fear and trepidation

My resolve is so fickle. I am so bored here, and so desperate to get away, yet when it comes to the thought of actually getting on a plane to land myself in some godforsaken part of the earth, I still tremble and quake.

Putting that aside, I must fill in some of the gaps in what I have already done in researching the great OE.

Having already taught in the UK in the past I am familiar with the myriad of teaching agencies available to 'regular' teachers (ie: primary/secondary, Bachelor of Ed trained). In the past I've dealt with Timeplan, Smart Teachers, Bluewave, ITN, TeachLondon, Protocol, AStar, Hays...the only ones I ever worked for were Protocol teachers, during my 'London sojourn'.

This time round I do not have the desire to get a job with my BEd in an international or IB school. Firstly, I feel that they will sniff at my erratic teaching experience and secondly, many of them require a minimum of 2 years commitment. The plan this time is to find ESL work, which may pay less and be a little less secure, but allows me to take a more relaxed approach - more freedom to travel and to leave after 6 months if that is where the wind is taking us.

Still, the thought of being paid squidzillions and having free accommodation and being able to teach History was quite alluring, so I re-registered with with Select Education http://www.teachanywhere.com/ who place teachers all over the world. They keep sending me their job mailers, which has an effect on me that is not unlike turning up at my Mum's when she has a roast in the oven...

Teaching English in Bratslavia, anyone? History in Holland? Nursery assistant in Korea or Nigeria?

Of course, many of the European jobs are off limits because I am cursed not to have anything EU about me, but I will rant properly about that at a later date. I also think that eventually the option of working for an International School would be a good one as it may help me to gain teaching work in Scotland. Although working as a Tesol teacher for the next year or so may actually hinder me from getting Int school jobs...frown, frown. I will just have to face that when we get there.

The good thing about the mailers is that whenever my resolve to escape falters a little, the enticing aroma of all these jobs in such delicious locations is enough to get my mojo back.

Still waiting for my course books to arrive...waiting...waiting...

The background

While my daughter is napping I have a chance to fill in some of the (currently rather hazy) details...

Saoghalbeag is Scottish Gaelic for "small world" (saoghal = world/beag = small). I travelled to the UK, like so many other Aussies, on a working holiday maker visa in 2002. Before I even set foot in the place (Scotland) I knew it was where I wanted to live forever. 3 years of drecht weather, fickle boys, midges and being the Aussie outsider did not change this. 3 and a half years in exile in Australia have still not eroded my desire to live in the best wee country in the world.

http://www.scotlandistheplace.com/

http://www.visitscotland.com/

Anyway: why aren't we there? Well, immigration is a fearful enemy and so far none of my elaborately constructed plans to return have come to fruition. Not even the fact that I have a half-Scottish child will bend the ear of the British Home Office. So we have been condemned to exile in the blistering Australian heat - in a country where green frogs live in my toilet and cockroaches clamber up the walls at night! There are wasps and snakes and spiders in the garden (and sometimes in the house!) and the heat, did I mention the heat??

I will leave my frustration, rage, feet stamping and head banging to your imagination. So many times I have cursed the place (Scotland) and wished the dream to set me free so I could try to make myself happy with life in the Aussie 'burbs; with my 4WD, plasma telly and 6 burner BBQ...

Sometimes I can be slightly mulish and it can take me a little bit of time to notice the open window because I am so busy stamping my feet and shouting at the door that has just slammed in my face. (Even when I do notice the window I have sometimes been known to continue stamping and shouting at the door).

My daughter has just turned 3, and for a long time the idea of teaching English overseas as a way of continuing the travels that were interrupted when my daughter arrived has slowly been growing on me. It was fired up last year while we were in Alice Springs as the ESL kids were the brightest and best to work with - they didn't sap me dry with apathy as the local kids did.

When I finally started googling to find out a bit more about this Tesol caper I was stunned at how much sense it made ... (but I still gave the closed door a few more swift kicks before I started trying to clamber out the window.)

Today is the day

Today I gave money to the Language Training Institute who are going to (eventually) grant me my TESOL certification.

Having spent the past 3 years and 5 months trawling the net, boring people witless and banging my head against brick walls trying to find ways of getting back to Scotland, it feels quite strange to be making plans to travel somewhere else.

It is scary, in fact. That little dream of life forever in Scotland has kept me chortling along through some dark, very dark, days.

Hell, thoughts of Scotland (Isle of Skye particularly) got me through 12 hours of labour.

Yes, that's right. There has been a small person following me round and calling me 'mother' for a couple of years now.