Tall Tales

Hello friends. I know you think I've abandoned you all. But no, I've been busy. Believe me, my life just keeps getting more and more complicated these days.

It's like every morning I wake up I've got some wicked new skill... like the time I woke up and found out I could suddenly work doorknobs. Or another time I discovered that if I stand on top of an upside down bowl I can reach the top of the stove. Mom was thrilled to see that one. (The panicked terror look on her face just made me realise how proud she must have been.) At this rate I expect that by next week I'll be able to do origami and speak Russian.

No, really... I haven't turned my back on you. I'm just refusing to look in your direction. It's a subtle difference.

Anyhow... while exploring these new skills I keep developing I recently discovered that I could talk... like proper Englishes with actual real words and everything! Seriously!

Well, as long as every conversation only ever uses the words 'apple', 'happy', 'more', 'bye-bye', and/or 'onion.' At the moment, that's pretty much all I've got. Plus I can make a few animal noises, depending on what I had for dinner.

I'll admit my current vocabulary range somewhat limits my ability to argue that Major League Baseball needs to expand the first round of playoffs from 5 games to 7, cause any team can get hot enough to beat the Phillies 3 in a row even if they aren't the better team (am I right uncle Dave?)

Diverse vocabulary or not, I still got my cute-on.

Of course, given I can talk now I've been in deep conversation with Mom and Dad lately about politics in this country. As most children under two would be. And let me tell you... they've been opening my eyes to how Australian government really works.

Mom and Dad try to put me on a workplace agreement. I told them they could take their contract and "Apple onion bye-bye" it!

So it turns out that there's an election coming, and I feel the need to take part. I just don't believe anyone is really looking out for the interests of toddlers these days. Where are the tiny tax breaks for tiny plastic animals?

I demand a vote! I demand justice! And equality! And watermelon served twice daily.

I started looking into this whole 'voting' thing and found out you need to be a registered Australian citizen to have a say. Go figure.

I researched online. I mean, after I finished checking out the latest updates to my other blog (www.cuterthansuricruise.com)

I found out that to be eligible to vote I was going to have to do some kind of test to prove my citizenship. With lots of questions about what it takes to be Australian! And given Mom is from Singapore and Dad is from Canada, I figured it was up to me alone to ace this test.

I hit the books. Literally... I have a tiny hammer and I enjoy smashing books. It's my thing.

This test could have any number of questions about Australian history, or geography, or culture... which means it's pretty much a sports quiz. Lets face it, that's all Aussies really care about anyhow. So I prepared accordingly.

Here I am writing my test. Question 1: Who killed Phar Lap? I didn't realise it was an inquisition. I think I might need a lawyer.

Once I completed my test, I was supposed to mail it in. But I can't reach the post box! (Just another glaring example of anti-toddler discrimination!) And I can't tricycle yet (that's another skill I hope to wake up with soon) so I was looking at a long walk.

Where have I been you ask? Hey... a hike across the Australian desert to deliver my test to John Howard personally. These things take time.

Eventually I managed to hand in my completed citizenship test, and was eagerly awaiting the official word that I could vote!

Oops... I don't think I did very well on my test.

After a couple of weeks they eventually realised it was a clerical error. I suppose my handwriting isn't really very good yet (hello, I am only 1 and a half) so they thought I said Australia's greatest cricket player was 'Don Batman' instead of this guy.

Hmmm... Don Batman. Sounds like a really interesting superhero/mafia movie. Memo to self: send script idea to Hollywood.

After checking out the podium, I decided I wouldn't be sticking around for the citizenship induction ceremony.

And there you have it... the reason I haven't blogged in 2 months. And every word of that story is true!

Dad and I have a good laugh when we realise that I was an Australian Citizen all along, and didn't have to go through the trouble of applying. Whoops! I laughed so much I pooped my pants. On purpose. Take that Dad.

Was that too much of a political discourse for you? Alright then, lets get back to the fluff. Because nobody does fluff like me!

Saskia doing what Saskia does best... hamming it up and referring to herself in the third person.

So you may have noticed I have some pigtails now. Pretty cute, no? Anyhow, Dad noticed that I now kind of look like Aunt Michelle when she was just a wee lovely lass... and somewhat bratty apparently, though I can't vouch for that.

Aunt Michelle is the one in the middle. Luckily, you can't see Dad's pigtails in this photo. Don't ask.

Compare that to my new look:

I'm just starting to perfect my 'How could I have done it?' look.

Pretty close huh? I guess this means I'll grow up able to play a mean guitar and sing like an angel. Which would make me the opposite of Mom. (Though don't tell her that, she thinks her rockabilly version of Twinkle Twinkle is a real winner. And by rockabilly, I mean massively out of tune.)

Love to all! And I'm glad to be back...

S.

I'm Back!

I know you're all wondering where I've been lately. What can I say, I've been busy growing up. A girl like me has places to go, people to see, and a nemesis to slander. My calendar has been booked solid for weeks, I think I might need a PA.

But the good news is, I'm back now and I've brought a whole bunch of new pictures with me!

Admit it. You've missed this adorable face, haven't you?

So anyhow, here's today's theme: what could I be when I grow up? First, there are the obvious options... to follow in the footsteps of my parents:

A lawyer perhaps?

Like most children with lawyer parents, Mom is always telling me to eat my greens, wear clean underwear... and to always believe that constitutional expressions must be given contemporary meaning as befits the character of a national basic law, which is extremely resistant to formal amendment but which must, of necessity, apply to new, unforseen and possibly unforseeable circumstances.

Of course, I don't eat my greens either. So there.

"No Mom, YOU'RE out of order!"

Or maybe I'll follow my Dads path more closely. Will I turn out to be a computer geek?

I dunno... I'm a 15 month old blogger who just uploaded a video to YouTube while configuring my spam filter. So what do you think?

I really need to stop surfing these food sites between meals.

Yeah, I suppose it could go either way. But c'mon people, that would be soooo predictable. And you know me... I like to shake things up a bit. So I've been trying out a few other career options lately.

Some of my more traditional ideas are...

Librarian? As you can see I've already perfected the death stare.

"Shhh! Stop with the tomfoolery you noisy kids!"

Or how about a furniture removalist?

Lets face it. Overalls probably aren't the best look for me. They really don't go with my Dolce OR my Gabbana.

And then I had some not-so-safe ideas...

White female rapper?

"Lil Missy Mack Sass sez... you betta git outta my face before I cap you one sucka!"

Yeah... Mom and Dad weren't really big fans of that idea. Suddenly there was a lot more country and western being played around the house. Enough with the Patsy Cline already Dad!!

So I thought a little harder. What other job could I do that would freak out the parents? Master thief perhaps?

I suppose this photo could have been labeled 'electrician' instead of 'thief', but look at my face. I'm obviously guilty of something!

This whole thieving thing looks like it's not really a promising career choice, especially considering I've just uploaded a photo of myself to the internet pulling my very first job. Pink Panther I am not.

So... in the end, it's just too early to know for sure what career I'll have. Though one thing IS for sure however, no matter what I do I'm gonna look totally smokin' hot when I do it! Just like my mom.

I'd better look this good when I'm broken down, used up and over the hill at 35.

Oh yeah, one more thing... there's a huge gathering of people in Sudbury this weekend, and I know a lot of them read this blog. So I put together a little compilation video to say hello, and give you a peek into my world these days.

Did I mention I can walk now? Check out this video proof:

Was that awesome, or was it AWESOME? Seriously, that was four-and-a-half minutes of award winning melodrama. Pure cinematic gold. I laughed, I cried, I had a wee.

It's clearly Oscar winning material. Or at least, it would be if the Academy were made up of both my Grandmothers and nobody else. Which it probably should be, because Grandma's know talent!

Bye for now...

Sass

Family Portrait

Sorry, haven't posted in a while. Turns out that there haven't been many new photos taken of me lately, mostly on account of Dad and his new hobby... being an even bigger geek than I ever thought possible.

He's getting really good at it too, just look at the latest:

The Chormiers

Seriously... what kind of man spends an hour online creating a Simpsons version of his family instead of taking actual photos of me?

*Sigh*

Saskia.

Enough with the animals already...

So here I am trying to have a nice relaxing weekend. Mom and Dad were kind enough to buy this new couch, which they then considerately shrunk (Shrank? Reducerised?) to suit my size.

Very comfy, though in fact the couch is regular size. I just had a REALLY big lunch.

And guess what... it's not just an average couch. It's actually a renegade Autobot from the planet Cybertron who just signed a 3 picture deal with Michael Bay. Check it out... Transformer couch, more than meets the eye!

Imagine a really cool wohwohwohwohching noise as it transforms from a couch into a... slightly less comfortable lump of foam. And then declares war on Decepticons. Pretty cool, no?

Anyhoo... as I was saying, it was a wonderfully relaxing day. And then all of a sudden there were eels.

Seriously... what is that thing and why is he looking at me? And licking his creepy eel lips?

Mom, Dad and Grandma took a perfectly good Sunday and dragged me off to the Aquarium. (As if the elephant nudity at the Zoo last week hasn't left me scarred enough.) Though as it turns out, the Aquarium has quickly become one of my all time favorite places.

Yes, I look terrified, but in fact this is my extremely happy face. Blame the photographer.

Yes, the stingray is my new best friend. Seriously, I love this guy... he cracks me up. Though apparently he had a run in with Steve Irwin and people just haven't forgiven him. C'mon, look at that innocent face. He smiles like an angel. A slippery, algae smelling angel.

Love ya!

Sass

Animals Galore

Ahh, the joy of animals. They smell terrible, they make scary noises, and most of them could use a shave. Yet as a toddler I am duty bound to remain fascinated by them. And while I have many warm and fuzzy stuffed animals I have to admit I wasn't fully prepared to meet most of them face to face.

Which I have done recently... starting with my very first trip to the Zoo.

We started with the tiny, fist sized elephants... until I clued into the principles of 'depth perception' and 'perspective'. Or as I like to call it, 'safe-distance shrink-ism'.

I mean, first off... where are the pants? In my storybooks, almost all of the animals wear pants. And having seen an elephant naked, I can see why!

Still without the pants. And a funny necktie wouldn't go astray either.

Sure the zebras looked cool, but the advancing lion that had broken through the enclosure next door was much more fascinating.

And the following week, Mom and Dad took me to a farm!

That's my friend Toby and his Dad, they're city folk who bought themselves a farm outside the city. I suppose it's more practical than keeping cows in their back yard in the city. Though that would have been my first choice. Think of all the free milk... score!

We saw some ponies. Until we got much closer (have we learned nothing from my teachings of safe-distance shrink-ism?) at which point the ponies became monstrous, hairy beasts with sweaty nostrils. Seriously... ewwwwww.

But Dad wasn't afraid of Mr. Horsey so I thought I'd try getting a little closer...

He can smell my fear, even through the poopy nappy. And believe you me, there was significant poopage.

Yikes! As I later found out, Mr. Horsey's real name was actually Satan's Destroyer and he had been banished to this farm after being caught cheating at the races. How did he cheat you may ask? By taking steroids.... that were made out of children!!

And also, I'm pretty sure he killed Phar Lap, just because Phar Lap looked at him funny. Seriously, that Mr. Horsey was one bad apple.

By the way, did I mention I can walk now? Oh, right... I guess that's a big deal. Talk about burying my lead... my journalism professor would be so embarrassed!

OK, so it's assisted walking. Which is a legitimate form of walking according to the Grandparents Association of Australia.

OK... a couple more random cute pictures. This is to make up for the lack of posts lately. (Sorry Grandma Joyce, but between fantasy baseball and Facebook Dad has become a bit lax in the baby-blog-assistance area.)

It takes a very cute baby to pull off horizontal stripes. Oh yeah.

Someone call child services... if I can't reach the top of the dishwasher, is it really fair to make me clean up?

Forget the Wiggles, I've moved on to a cooler musical role model. Who also wears tea cosies on his head.

Love to all!!

Saskia

The History of Me

I thought I'd share a couple of interesting photos that Mom and Dad had hidden away in shoeboxes in the back of their closet.

I mean, sure... at first I was absolutely fascinated with just the shoeboxes. I've only just realised what shoes are actually for (until a few days ago I thought they, like all other matter on earth, existed solely for me to eat) and now you tell me that shoes also come in their own boxes? Boxes that I can put stuff into and then take out again? With lids that come on and off?

Oh yes... it was a very good day indeed when I first discovered shoeboxes. But I digress.

Check these out these baby pictures of good ol' Ma and Pa when they were my age:

Thankfully, I didn't inherit Mom's out-of-focus gene!

Dad is secretly a natural blonde? That explains so much.

Check out that killer cold-hearted pout on the 1972 version of Mom! Now that's a familiar look we can both give to the 2007 version of Dad on a regular basis. And that picture of Dad as a baby is the final, undeniable proof that it's his fault I have a double chin. So memo to Mom: We can start with the ice cream and cake in my diet now, and if I get a little plump it'll just be Dad's fault.

That being said, I sure hope I don't inherit his beer gut too. Dad enjoys telling anyone who cares (by which I mean, anyone who can't tell him to stop talking... ie. me!) how much 'hard work' and 'dedication' it took to 'cultivate' that 'shapely' beer gut of his. Yeah, sure thing Dad... I bet it's just as hard as climbing Everest. Did you have a beer sherpa to help you along the way too?

Anyhow... one more random picture to finish this post:


My wicked-awesome Aunt Christina is off travelling through China, London, and then off to Toronto to spend a year living in Canada, and hopefully learning how to make maple syrup a regular part of all 3 meals in a day. I miss you Chrissy!

Peace out...

Sass

My Anne of Green Gables Pose

In all seriousness, I have no clue what a gable is anyhow. Isn't he a dead actor? And why is he green?

Just a quick shout out to my Canadian posse. Check out this photo, it was taken today. Pretty nice huh? Especially nice when you consider that an Australian May is equivalent to a Canadian November. Let me tell you dudes, it was 20 degrees today. Thanks to global warming, this is a peek at your future winter. Nice!

Peace out...

S.

A few more birthday pics...

T'was a fine day for all the big ones and the wee ones, with much to celebrate. I made an appearance of course (which was a great cause for celebration) and in my honor there were present openings, balloon inflatings, balloon poppings, face stuffings (including some painted faces) and lots of the shakey-shakes that I oh so humbly refer to as dancing.

Dad was good at pointing out the finer subtleties around gift opening etiquette. Open the card first? Who came up with that totally unfair rule anyhow?

Dad was not so good at the finer subtleties of checking to make sure the guests had handed over all of their presents. Though he certainly was thorough.

Forget the gifts Mom, check out my pending ninja attack on that pink balloon!

Funny story... Why was I wrapped in ribbons you might ask? Well... apparently it's some sort of Chiam family tradition when it comes to presents so you'd have to ask that side of the family. Trust me, Christmas morning is frightening when you wake up to grown-up real life adult people like Aunty Christina giggling, tying ribbons in her hair, and wearing tree ornaments as earrings. Freaky huh?? Well, that's what Dad thinks anyhow (though he asked me not to say anything... oops!)

Yes, it's true. Mom and Dad got totally smashed and passed out, leaving me to clean up my own party. Or at least that's what I told the lady from social services.

Love to all!

Saskia - officially 1 now!

Saski-Day finally came!

I know a LOT of you were upset that you couldn't be at my birthday party yesterday. My bad... I didn't realise the bouncers would be so discriminating. I guess that's what I get for hiring biker gangs to watch the door.

Anyhow, someone was able to sneak a camera into the VIP section and captured my favourite moment of the day:



Yes, that's right... that cake was seriously on fire!!! I think Dad lit a candle for every week I've been alive.

Let me also give an extra special shout-out to everyone who couldn't be there but who sent emails and texts instead. My assistants have told me they were all really beautiful and heartfelt.

Love to all of ya!

Sass

Wednesday Night Fever

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk,
I'm a wobbly girl, haven't learned to talk.
Music loud and my nappy warm.
I've been flopping around since I was born.
And now it's all right, it's O.K.
Too cute to look the other way.
We can try to understand
How to keep my balance man.
Whether you're a brother
Or even if you're my mother,
You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Feel the cot it's breakin'
And ev'rybody shakin'
And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha,
Stayin' alive.

That's right - I am the long lost and legendary 5th Bee Gee.

Right... so for as long as I can remember (ie. about 10 days back) I've always wanted to dance. And with my birthday coming up this weekend, I thought it was about time I got motivated and taught myself the toddler two-step.

My first attempts at dancing were lacklustre, to say the least:



If I was ever going to improve, there was a basic skill I was going to have to master. Yes, to dance.... to really dance... apparently it helps to be able to stand.

So stand I did!



Not bad huh? It's only a matter of time now until I'm jumping shark tanks with my motorcycle.

Anyhow, just wait until you see some of my whack moves when I throw down at my b-day par-tee!

And in the meantime, here are a few more photos I'm putting up online in a blatant attempt to assault your senses with so much cute-ness you feel obligated to buy me extra stuff for my birthday.

Seriously... people sometimes think we're sisters! And by people, I mean the blind and/or deceased.

This would have been a lot more fun if Dad let me wear my spurs.

I love this Calvin kid and his wicked toys...

So I finally got my very own transmogrifier!!

What can I say? Life is good. ;)

Love ya homies!!

Sass