Grizzly

Before the unveiling:

(yes, that was her photo to show Daddy she was okay!) let me reiterate that this was a scooter incident, not my crappy parenting giving her too much sugar and not insisting on brushing. But okay, maybe my crappy scootering supervision parenting. . . Isn't it weird how every parent in the waiting room for the tooth yankers felt both judged and secretly judgemental?

My little one coped really well with the whole ordeal. I can't quite work out if the saddest part was when we arrived at the hospital and she burst into tears as she got out the car and wailed "I don't want my teeth pulled out" or last night when she was not supposed to drink, but woke at 1.30 am needing to go to the toilet, and asked for some water. I gave her a sip (allowed) without making a big deal, and as she sleepily stumbled to bed she told me blearily "I'm freaking out".

It's done, and wow did we grow some stonkingly good teeth. Check out these babies:

That's a lot of root. Where did that live, given that on the x-ray we can see the adult teeth so clearly formed??

She agreed to showing her new smile for Aunty Iz as long as she was incognito. After crafting with Mutti in the afternoon she had the perfect disguise.

I really missed her smiles the first couple of hours she was home. It's amazing how we take them for granted, and this made me really appreciate the happy little face that she usually shares. Amazingly, after a few hours, it was back.

if a little witchier than before.

I think nova's right - if anyone can rock this look, P5 can.

Braindead knitting

I currently have three WIPs. Fingerless gloves for my sister, of which one is complete. Since it's the third time in a row I've knitted these, I'm a bit hesitant to cast on that sixth glove. After that I still have to knit some for me.

A reversible sleeveless thingy, that I am knitting for me. Again I've knit it before (for that sister again) but it has a lace end, so while it's not tricky, I can't talk to the kids while I knit it, so it's the evening knit.

And the everlasting blanket. Who knits a blanket?

Me. This is my braindead knitting. It's boring as hell. It's also meditative. And cosy. And reassuring. And going to come in handy tomorrow while I wait outside and knit knit knit while a doctor I haven't met puts my baby to sleep and a dentist I also haven't met pulls her four top teeth out.

:-( And I can't even blame chocolatey fun. Stupid scooters. Sigh. She did say after hospital, she's going to try going back on her scooter. She really does have a lion heart.

Watch this gap and tomorrow, you might see that gap!

Why Our Neighbours Surely Love Us

Before: (OMG I'm admitting I lived behind a fence like this for 18 months?)

After:

It looks all wobbly there for some reason, but really, it isn't (that's an excuse for another shot - we're so proud of our handiwork!).

Ah. . . such a relief.

Our new *almost* neighbours clearly love us too. My sweet friend L and hubby P turned up this evening with gifts for P5 to make her feel better after her toothy emergency. Squinkles (which were a big hit) and The Tooth Fairy DVD.

Awwwww. Thank you mateys! My little one did so well today despite her wonky teeth and black gums. Got a hospital appointment to have her assessed at 8am tomorrow. Yikes. Wish us luck!

Horrorshow

I do not watch scary movies. It's not just 'cos I'm a scardey cat. I think my imagination is too good, and so it ceases to be something on a screen and becomes something lurking around a corner of my life. Once upon a time Blokey Husband made me watch American History X, which I don't recommend at all, because there was a scene in it with teeth and a pavement that has shuddered down my spine forever more. I have a thing about teeth and pavements.

So today when P5 came off her scooter, although I had been anticipating a tumble as she got faster, the fact that she landed teeth first on the bricks . . . well it gave me the screaming heebie jeebies to put it bluntly.

Lots of blood. Lots. I thought she'd broken a tooth or two off. Thankfully we had friends driving past who had 1) a first aid kit and 2) a car to take us to the dentist. I was floundering a bit with two scooters, three bags and two kids, one of whom was gushing.

But here she is three hours later, still gorgy, and remarkably unscathed. She is the only child in the universe who can hit brick face first without exterior evidence.

What she did was wallop the front four teeth soooo hard that now instead of biting down outside her bottom teeth, they all point in. Ewwwwwww. I can't think about it too much without feeling physically sick. Two have almost disappeared inside swelling. So we are being referred to the hospital for a good look under GA, and in all likelihood they will pull the two front ones :( My baby will really be my baby no more with the gappy smile look of a seven-year-old.

It's remarkable how children heal though. You have no idea from the way she is bouncing around, and how this looks, how hideous it was.

She can't really eat today, but she still has her awesome sense of style though.

So maybe I'm just a wuss.

Roller Girls

Went to a birthday party at a rollerblading rink. I wore my very best roller derby girl socks.

I sort of forgot that um, I can't roll. So I did get around half the rink hanging off Blokey Husband, but then we had to go back to towing L&P around the rink since it really was supposed to be a kids' party. Sigh.

Despite the earlier fears and scoffing of my sibling and I behind his back, L8 was by far the most successful roller of the family - shock! He was a speedy thing, but liked someone to tow him to gain speed. It was a tough work out, so no pics. In fact, we didn't manage to take a focused picture all day, but I like this one anyway:

It was a case of holding floppy dolly P5 and hurling her at the right height so that were her legs briefly underneath her, they might make some kind of contact with the ground. Not terribly efficient. But she looked so totally cute that it really didn't matter :)

Ever wondered what those [insert lifestyle suburb] oldies get up to on a rainy Saturday night? Poring over a crossword perhaps? Reminiscing over some photo albums?

Nah, they are just checking out their weaponry.

Phew, it's pretty intense.

And just so that I don't finish on that pic of Mutti because she'll never forgive me for leaving that hanging in your brain, I bought a purty new light today to replace the green one that used to give the alien glow so we always kept it off.

Why I didn't think of replacing it earlier is a little bit worrying.

This One Is Gonna Be Trouble Baby. . .

See that crazy purple belt being worn as a hippy headband? Imagine me saying kindly this morning "That's a little bit crazy for school, but you can wear it when you get home." Also imagine me saying firmly "You cannot wear that to school."

A million points if you can guess what she was wearing when she emerged out of class this afternoon? Extra points if you can imagine how many parents made kind comments like "Oh, that's a good way to keep hair out of her eyes."

Seriously, if at five you sneak crazy clothes to school, what hope do we have at fifteen?

A Big Hug For Mutti Today

My uncle Henk died yesterday in Germany. Thanks to Bunce's family album and the wonders of Picasa, I could easily find this lovely pic of him with his beautiful wife and babies in the early 70s.

Henk was the man responsible for this photo of old Bunce. What a thing to do to your sister! Take her new husband and ply him with beer and blondes. Tut tut. Those were clearly the days.

He was certainly an indulgent kind of a chap. Check out the herring-lust. Bleurg.

I'd say Rest In Peace, but peace just wasn't Henk's kind of thing, so perhaps I'll wish him Rest In Party. It seems more fitting.

Einschlafen dürfen, wenn man müde ist,

und eine Last fallen lassen dürfen,

die man lange getragen hat,

ist etwas Gutes.

Letting yourself sleep when you're tired

and letting your burdens fall away,

those you've carried for a long time,

is a beautiful thing.

(Thanks to Johanna for the translation.)

Disappearingness and secrets

"People who don't have secrets imagine them as dark and hidden. It's just the opposite. Secrets are bright. They light you up. Like the bare lightbulb left on in a cell day and night, they give you no rest."

I don't have a secret, it's just a nice passage from the book I just finished. It was annoying that I finished it as I struggled to know what to do with the day, and a good book might have helped. Still haven't got over the guilt of not working and not having my children home during the day, so I can't really spin or knit or read yet for feeling indulgent and unworthy.

Weirdness though, the scabs were hanging off my tattoo fix up, so I scratched them off and. . .

Well they've gone. That doesn't really happen when you go to a reputable tattoo place, so maybe it just wasn't meant to be? Shall I get them put back in a second time?

If you don't tell me either way in a comment, I'll be really grumpy at you.

I Want To Live Here

Yep, absolutely nothing else happened today.

It's Working

It is indeed fun to draw on your house.

L8 drew mobius strips and told me they also looked like venn diagrams :)

P5 drew a lady with excellent shoes and sixteen fingers. Both children found the fingers quite hilarious.

Crazy Proud Mama Boasts

P5 did her first public ballet performance today at the Plunket Gala Day at our local bay. Her hair needed to be 'up and tidy'. Um. P5's hair doesn't do tidy very well, but we did up.

She was nervy. A huge group of preschool dance and older jazz girls turned up, but only two from the Dance For Fives class. So two it was.

I omitted to take a pic of the crowd, but it was big enough to be daunting for a wee girl.

This is Farmers and Ponies. P5 is the farmer and she needed to do big, slow {pointy} gumboot steps.

Lining up ready

to take a bow.

And the relief of it all being over. Phew.

Blackboard

I meant to get out in the garden today, but somehow it never worked out. But I did squish in time to paint my pantry. I have faced the fact that Blokey Husband is never going to get this far around the kitchen in his repainting quest. It's been a year and a half and he's done four cupboards to an acceptable standard, four cupboards to an atrocious standard (he was rushing as we had people coming over and bolloxed them all up in his hurry) and four drawers untouched.

So I decided the pantry was going to become a blackboard instead. I'll get my reluctant writer into it, even if he needs to scribble all over the kitchen :) I climbed up on my wobbly makeshift ladder of the piano stool balanced on two chairs:

while Blokey Husband refined the little ones' poker skills nearby.

Tada! I'm resisting writing on it till tomorrow. It'll never look like this again I'm sure.

Helping Your Friends Move House

is a good reminder why you should never move again. House that is. Although the bodies involved probably won't be that keen on moving tomorrow either.

Feeling a bit guilty that I got to plonk my little ones in bed and lie around in bubbles, while my poor friend was, last I saw, desperately searching for the sheets for the five kids' beds. It was husband's fault I couldn't stay though, since he was buggering off to poker and my kids were going to start being more hindrance than I was help if I didn't get them home to bed.

Ah bubbles. And a plastic toy submarine on the windowsill too.

Still, I have baking to bring around tomorrow :)

(Hmmm, yes I fiddled with the colours on Picasa and couldn't undo it. Whoops. My bathroom isn't really on fire.)

From The Spooky Files

Here is a picture to sooth my sister's anxious heart:

I got my spots put in. :) if you are in the mood for spooking though. . .

I was very torn about getting it done. I liked it imperfect. It made me think about Turkish carpets and Amish quilts, which are always left imperfect so man isn't imitating Dog (that's Husband's line) and aiming for perfection and all that. I wanted the top line turned into a thick-to-thin line too, and that part was no problem, but the spots were another story.

The skin wouldn't take the ink. WTF??!? The tattooist told me they would go all grey as the skin opened up and she couldn't get the ink in, it seemed my skin didn't like the needles. She didn't want to keep going as it was better to heal it and come back in two weeks. Then she admitted she never seen anything like that before. Weirdness. That's me.

Doo-do doo-do do-do-do-do

(that's twilight zone music)

ODS

Today L8 and I went to an Open Day at the One Day School (a one day a week school for weird clever clogses - I know that's not a word, but you know what I mean). He filled in the end of day evaluation that yes, he liked it, no there wasn't anything he didn't like, but no, he didn't want to go regularly. He told me "You know me mum - I'm allergic to change".

So there, mummy-guilt from dumping him in the system assuaged. He wants to stay.

Goodo, I'm down with that kiddo.

In The Wars

Both my kids came home from school bleeding today.

Looks bad, but I swear it's just the unco genes kicking in. P5 managed to do this climbing out of the swimming pool. Her teacher held her hand and brought her to me as she came out of class at three, just to make her feel better about her injuries. Sweet.

Loving My Chookens

After months of this one's too young, this one's too old, this one's too broody, this one's moulting and all the other excuses under the sun, they are finally proving their worth again.

Yep, that monster one was a doubler yolker :)

Country Stuff

Went to the local A&P show. I loved the pumpkins. Some poor sucker grew a three hundred kilogram pumpkin, and didn't win! Nup, he got second. The four hundred kilogram pumpkin grower won. Wooooaah.

P5 went on a pony ride. Sweet girl.

Just after that we were leaving, when L8 stopped us and said he might like to go on a pony ride too. If you know L8 at all, you'll find that pretty shocking. And this photo even more so.

What you won't find surprising is that the poor chap was absolutely terrified and spent the entire ride hanging off my neck as I walked around with him, one leg barely over the horse, petrified stiff. But he made one full circle despite his almost overwhelming fear. And that makes him very brave in my book.

(If a little strange.)