If anyone had told me a year ago that I would go all gooey in the tummy about four guys in skivvies I would have laughed in their face. Or at least chortled.
But so it is.
If you haven't come across The Wiggles they're four guys who sing for kids. They're also the top entertainers in Australia and among toddlers have a fan group equal to the Beatles at their height. (That may be an exaggeration.)
Shortly before the Poppet was born his Nana brought the Sprocket one of those plastic music tables and one of the tunes that it played was Frog Goes Walking - which I hadn't heard since Primary School and that Grandpa also hadn't heard since Primary School. We couldn't quite remember the words so obviously we Youtubed it. And the only Youtube that came up was - The Wiggles.
The Sprocket was in love.
We watched it again.
And again.
Yep. And Again.
Until then the Sprocket had shown zilch interest in television. And I had been somewhat smug. Less smug on the 24 hour flight to the UK when he showed no interest in television. Despite much pleading. Begging. Bribing. But generally entirely happy that he was not sitting in front of the TV but running around climbing stuff. (Read destroying stuff)
We watched more Wiggles youtubes. All winners.
Just before the Poppet was born we invested in a DVD.
The Wiggles Go Bananas. The one with Kylie Minogue being a (very small) Pink Wiggle.
The Sprocket was entranced.
And my memories of the last few days before the Poppet was born and the first few weeks of her life are inextricably tangled up with Monkey Man and The Chicken Walk.
I only have to hear that Aiaiai at the beginning of Monkey Man to recall again her tiny fingers and the snuffles she made as she fed, the warm, perfect feel of her in my arms.
Sigh.
But so it is.
If you haven't come across The Wiggles they're four guys who sing for kids. They're also the top entertainers in Australia and among toddlers have a fan group equal to the Beatles at their height. (That may be an exaggeration.)
Until recently they had slipped under my radar, despite my being a children's librarian and being around toddlers frequently. Now the Wiggles are good family friends we meet daily.
Shortly before the Poppet was born his Nana brought the Sprocket one of those plastic music tables and one of the tunes that it played was Frog Goes Walking - which I hadn't heard since Primary School and that Grandpa also hadn't heard since Primary School. We couldn't quite remember the words so obviously we Youtubed it. And the only Youtube that came up was - The Wiggles.
The Sprocket was in love.
We watched it again.
And again.
Yep. And Again.
Until then the Sprocket had shown zilch interest in television. And I had been somewhat smug. Less smug on the 24 hour flight to the UK when he showed no interest in television. Despite much pleading. Begging. Bribing. But generally entirely happy that he was not sitting in front of the TV but running around climbing stuff. (Read destroying stuff)
We watched more Wiggles youtubes. All winners.
Just before the Poppet was born we invested in a DVD.
The Wiggles Go Bananas. The one with Kylie Minogue being a (very small) Pink Wiggle.
The Sprocket was entranced.
And my memories of the last few days before the Poppet was born and the first few weeks of her life are inextricably tangled up with Monkey Man and The Chicken Walk.
I only have to hear that Aiaiai at the beginning of Monkey Man to recall again her tiny fingers and the snuffles she made as she fed, the warm, perfect feel of her in my arms.
Sigh.
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