pick yourself up, dust yourself off

All righty then. I'm officially not in a panic any more. This is good because panicking is stupid. I've done some marketing, I've done some thinking, I've been reassured and helped by good people far and wide and I'm back to being Miss Caroline the Optimist again. Big thanks again to all who weighed in and helped out and calmed me down. You rock.

Meanwhile in household news, here is what's going on.

I received a lovely teatowel via Sooz's teatowel swap from Jo at Jellybabyblog. Thank you Jo!



And I indulged in some panic-induced retail therapy but actually I think I would have bought this anyway, panic or no, because it had my name stamped all over it.



I will be heading off to Sewjourn on Saturday for a crafter-rific weekend of girl power and err.. craft power. Yay for craft power and girl power. Time to try making a skirt with a zip. Time to finish off a few projects. And time to just generally recoup and regroup. The lovely Miss Kaye (from my performance troupe The Tap-pets) is visiting us with her mobile massage service and she'll be in charge of transforming the plank of wood into my upper back once more. Can't wait.

Fixit's motorcycle was declared a write-off after his little accident. Iron-balls 1, Honda Hornet 0. This is bad news really, as he got that bike at staff rates when he was still in the trade and it was supposed to be the bike that lasted. It was still under finance too, which means that we'll see very little of the payout, the bulk of it goes straight to the finance company. Fixit was very glum about this. I reminded him that in less than 2 years when the apprenticeship is done he will be, for the first time in his life, on a reasonable wage and that he can get a good bike then. Meantime he has the loan of a friend's bike and has started looking for a second-hand one. He is just completing a 6-week stint at TAFE and I think his brain is well and truly fried (I know his fingernails are), but so far he has passed all exams. It's probably good that I'm going away on the weekend because it has forced him to take time off to mind the kids (school holidays) and this will be an excellent wind-down for him. You see how I look out for that man?

Climber has started keeping a diary as a direct result of reading the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books. He is really committed to it too, and is madly scribbling away as we drive to and from school or last thing at night. He let me read a bit when he first started but wants it to be private now, fair enough. He tells me bits though. Quite often the last thing he writes is a preparation for the future ie: Today at school I... - that way he can leap right in when he's re-united with his diary. He also had to do a self-portrait for school, we used a printed iron-on transfer onto an old canvas then he painted things about himself round the outside. It will go straight to the pool-room once his teacher has finished with it.



Cherub lost his second ever tooth...



... and he came this close to swallowing it again. Luckily, as he explained in his note to the Tooth Fairy, he thought it was an apple seed so he took it out of his mouth in the nick of time.



Phew.

Is magic real?

At school last Friday the Climber lost his other front tooth and is currently sporting the look we like to call the Toofless Tiger.
I think Climber and Crafty's boy monkey may have had a Tooth Fairy discussion recently. Suddenly her non-believer is enamoured of the coin under the pillow and Climber meanwhile starts in with is the Tooth Fairy real? because there's no such thing as magic, really, is there? Fortunately I was able to construct, hastily, a cogent argument based on the psychic connection between twins, which culminated in a resounding if that's not magic what is? Reassured, he decided that the Tooth Fairy should swim for this tooth and it was placed in a glass of water forthwith. Then, of course, conscience struck and he dictated the following note to be left out for her :

The Cherub said wistfully on the day after his first day, I really miss my kinder. Later that same morning he requested a daytime sleep. This was a surprise, because we recently lost his daytime sleep due to Christmas, heat-waves and school holidays. ( I know! A four-year-old still having a day sleep! Climber was the same, but don't be jealous; remember my kids are Very Fussy Eaters). When I looked askance at him, he explained that he wanted to dream about his kinder. I was a little bit overwhelmed by this huge kinder-love after only one day, but then I worked it out. The Cherub is mad for toy trains; indeed, the reason I never got any artwork from him is that he spent every possible inside moment at crèche crouched over the train track. At kinder there is a whole new set of tracks to fall in love with. With the added bonus of a really good large bit of floor so he can set up a decent sized track. No wonder he wanted to have a quiet little lie-down while he contemplated the glories awaiting him. I understand this. I'm a day-dreamer myself.

The house is being tackled bit by bit. The good news is that the boys' room is once more fit for human habitation, (not that it ever stopped me from making them sleep there, mind!), in fact better than that, it is spotless! It had got so bad it had assumed the proportions of Poe's Tell-tale Heart, because of all the Christmas presents and the spare mattress for the hot nights (the top bunk is too stifling) and the friends coming over and allright, yes, my general slackness. All I could think about was the terrible mess in there and I got to a stage of virtual paralysis with the other housework. Anyway, Bertie Wooster and I spent a day cleaning it up and I have to say that housework is much more fun when you have a pouncing kitty for company, but not necessarily faster. And although technically, the completion of this room should have meant I was free to get on with the rest of the house, I instead allowed myself to be distracted by a flying visit from my Mum, here to celebrate her little sister's 50th birthday.