Thoughts: Armageddon 2015

I had the opportunity to take my kids to Armageddon at the ASB Showgrounds today.

I’d been before with my son, but never with my daughter. She wanted to come along and see what it was all about. Of course, Master 13 was a bit put out as Armaggedon was a Dad-Son thing, but I managed to get him past that concept.

I was mostly concerned how Miss nearly 10 would cope with the crushing crowds and costumes. It’s hard to find your way around when your view is mostly bottom-height.

For me and Master 13, the Sony PlayStation booth was the primary destination. We were very keen to see the new Star Wars Battlefront game. Master 13 queued for 30 mins for a hands-on experience. Apparently it was totally worth the wait. And apparently I have to buy a PS4 now. 

  
  
If you’ve never been to Armaggedon, one thing it is, is that it’s highly entertaining. There are so many people that make the effort to dress up, and in quite sophisticated costumes.

Anime, Cosplay, Star Trek and Star Wars. DC and Marvel. Modern warfare and Steampunk. All collected in one place. It’s absolutely brilliant. After much observation and consideration, I think my  favorite genre is Steampunk. Those guys looked fantastic.

  
You can purchase pretty much anything in comics, shirts, costumes and masks. Art, posters and books. Games, toys, DVDs and more. 

  
I love that it validates games such as Magic:The Gathering. Of course I had to suppress the irrational desire to yell ‘Nerds’ at the top of my voice. Mainly because it would be acknowledging that fundamentally I am actually a bit of a nerd. Life rule: Never Grow Up.

  
My daughter coped with the crowds really well. In fact she’s decided that next year she wants to go in costume. My son decided that I should go as a somewhat short, plump Warlock from Destiny. So much respect for me, huh?

I can totally recommend Armageddon as a destination to amuse your kids for an afternoon. Just keep an eye on them as there are a lot of people swirling around in random patterns. At 3pm there was an announcement of a lost child, missing since 10:30am. Parents can be distracted.

Thoughts: 13 Yr Old Son and a Random Act Of Kindness

So yesterday, as I collected my kids, my 13 yr old son told me he had to do a blogpost for school. Which had a deadline. Midday today.

And the topic of his post? He had to do a Random Act Of Kindness and write about the experience.

One word: panic.

He had NO idea what he could do. I suggested that we head to the supermarket so he could help a ‘little old lady’ with her shopping. The idea terrified him.

I let him think about it overnight.

This morning he informed me that he had sorted it. Suspicious, I asked him what he’d done?

“I wrote ‘have a good day’ on a piece of paper and put it in one of your neighbours letter box.”

Seriously. So lame.

I have much work to do.

Thoughts: Rugby World Cup and Miss 3

  This morning we settled in to watch the All Blacks play France. One of the family members brought their 3 year old daughter over to join in the fun.

Her being three, of course, meant there was always going to be an alternate commentary.

  10 10 minutes in, she looked up at the screen, taking her eyes briefly from her Frozen coloring-in book and brand new pens: “Who are the silly boys”?

Dad: “Rugby players”.

“Elsa has blue eyes and a gold crown”.

A few minutes later, on observing the players contesting for the ball on the ground: “What are they doing”?

This question required a carefully considered response from her Dad and me: “They’re having a cuddle. And a rest. When the ball comes out, they’ll get up and start running again”.

“What is that man doing”? (Seeing the referee). “That man is like a Teacher, with 30 children in his classroom. He tells them what to do.”

At 36m: “That was a silly game, is it finished”?

Before we could answer, we were transported back to Frozen. “Who do you like: Elsa, Anna, Kristof, Sven or Olaf?” (Hans apparently wasn’t an option). 

I chose Elsa. “no, it sbould be Kristof. Girls like girls. Boys like boys”.

The match progresses. Savea scores through several tacklers. The adults are re-enacting Keith Quinn’s Lomu climactic commentary. Miss 3: “You’re so sil”.

When the French 8 Louis Picamoles was sent off for fisting Richie, Miss 3 is very upset. “He’s not allowed to play? For 10 minutes? When can he come back”? The concept of isolation and punishment was nearly more than she could bear.

A little later, Carter converts. “Good kick old man, good kick old man”!!!

Back to the sin bin (also known as the naughty step). “Is he allowed to play again yet? How much longer”? This is clearly weighing heavily on her mind.

One breath later: “Simon, you can colour in Anna”. (And we are back with Frozen). 

The stream of consciousness is highly amusing.

Another try scored. “It’s amazing and astonishing to just drop the ball”. This was followed with an indepth explanation by Dad about how all the players had a single purpose, to place the white ball over the line. “It’s called a Try”. She didn’t care. Anna has dark blue eyes. Apparently there is no discussion to be entered into.

The full-time whistle blows. The teams shake hands and hug in victory and loss, reveling in the camaderie that only rugby players know: Miss 3: “They’re having cuddles for reals”.

They sure were.

They ghosts of the past have been well and truly exorcised. 

Thoughts:Next Steps and Personal Growth

It seems that this year is not through challenging me.

I’m going to take the high road and focus on lessons learned, and then actually try to learn them. Rather than ignoring and repeating.

I’ve been a bit flat in recent weeks so I am having a bit of introspection. A little honest self-appraisal. It is hard, but ultimately necessary.

I’ve gotten to know ‘me’ pretty well. I know what I like, and love. I know what I hate. I know I compromise a little too much for the sake of not ‘rocking the boat’. It’s probably not that healthy long-term.

Thinking. Writing. Considering. Planning.

Sigh.