Four microwaves (and a tooth)

Seeing as Mr Fixit's fixiting skills didn't quite extend to repairing the touchpad controls on our broken microwave, I headed off to buy us a new one. But (and I'm still not sure why) instead of driving straight to the nearest K-mart or Target, I somehow decided to have a look at a nearby large factory outlet for electrical goods. And having stopped there, I proceeded to purchase a microwave from them, one that said it retailed for $250, marked down to $99. Only the microwave I'd paid $99 for wasn't actually a factory second, as we found to our dismay that night when we unpacked it from the box. It was a faulty one that had been repaired and it still had the scorch marks inside it from where it had previously blown up, not to mention being pretty dinged up on the outside. Still, we'd paid the money so we cleaned it up and gave it a try; but I was rather relieved when the touchpad on it stopped working within 24 hours. I took it back the next morning, and they told me they'd replace it. No, no, I said, I want my money back, which led to a 15 minute discussion where they claimed they couldn't give my money back and I said they could because they'd sold me stuff that didn't even work. Eventually and mostly because they seemed nice-ish /not sleazy and I am soft, I walked out with a replacement microwave that I made them check in the shop and which appeared to be fine. Only the next day it had a white spark explosion inside which shorted our fuses, and this time I sent Fixit back with it, looking strong and grumpy. They handed over the $99 immediately, and he went to K-mart and bought us a brand new one for $79.

I think the lesson to be learned here is that there are some electrical goods where it is a good idea to get a reconditioned one and save your dollars, but microwave ovens do not fall into that category. Also that I will never shop at Boom Electrical again.

The End.

PS Cherub's other top tooth fell out this morning, and was not swallowed. It has gone to school with him for Show and Tell.

Overload

I'm having one of those weeks where I think I have too many things to record. So forgive this little hotpotch as I present A Week (or so) Of News At Our House.

SLIGHTLY A BIT FAMOUS
I've been profiled by Arts Hub. Lookit.

STRANGE NEW TOY.
The Cherub is a very focussed child. He knows what he wants, what he really, really wants. The item that he weally, weally wanted (directly after he really, really wanted the stupid football card album) was a toilet plunger. Yes, you read that correctly. My 6-year-old has been asking and asking us if he can have his own toilet plunger. So eventually, we gave in and let him spend some of his own money on one.



This is not because he dreams of being a plumber, mind. Actually he dreams of being a Dalek. He is already planning his Dress-Up party for his birthday (in OCTOBER!!!) because he plans to be a Dalek for that. I'm yet to find out what else he is expecting to bring that costume into being. Did I mention he is very focussed? Also, I'm not supposed to know this but he is writing to Santa's elves because what he really, really wants for Christmas - and he's pretty sure his parents and grandparents aren't going to be able to manage this one but he reckons the elves will be able to knock one up for him - is an Invisibility Cloak, just like Harry Potter's.

BIG QUESTIONS
Speaking of which, the Climber recently booked me in for a Bath Chat (that's where he and I have a good old heart-to-heart while he's in the bath and no annoying, nosy little brother around eavesdropping), and he completely blind-sided me by asking, very matter-of-factly and prefacing it with I just want you to tell me truth, whether Santa was real. Apparently 2 of his good friends had been discussing it with him. I had no smart answers, and he is 9 after all, so we discussed the matter frankly. This then led to and the Easter Bunny? Ah that's me. What about the Tooth Fairy? Yep that's me too. [pause] And God?

I think he and I are both a bit sad about this, but you should see him now, being the terrific big brother by Bolstering Belief in Magic Beings for his little brother's benefit, it is quite lovely.

ON YA BIKE
The kids and I did our very first bike ride all the way to school, 5 kms away. I towed Cherub on the way there because I didn't want to be late, but on the way home (uphill) I fortified them with a milkshake first and Cherub rode by himself the whole way. They were so good and did really well. We hope to do it once a week (weather permitting) but we seriously need to work out the luggage because I did the ride home (uphill, did I mention?) with my handbag and some fruit & veg in the basket, Cherub's schoolbag on my back and Climber's schoolbag on my front, and now that I am slightly a bit famous I do not wish to be a packhorse, thank you.

JUNIOR PICTIONARY

We had a family games night on Saturday, and had what should have been a very good fun game of Junior Pictionary. Particularly given The Cherub's superb appreciation of toilet humour. This is what he looked like because the clue he's just drawn was nut and everyone knows *nuts* are hilarious. (I may have set him off slightly by suggesting that the pipe he'd drawn was in fact something else all together.)

We kept changing the format to accommodate the different skill levels of both children so that it was FUN for everyone, and not highly competitive, (winning came down to dice-throwing in the end, not drawing or guessing skills) but I have to tell you that the Climber is a terrible loser, in a get sad, try not to cry and the game is ruined sort of way, and if anyone knows what you're supposed to do to make a kid a better loser can they tell me please because I haven't a clue and it's driving me crazy.

ANOTHER BLEEPING BIKE DRAMA
I am this close to telling Fixit to get himself a car because I am O-V-A-H the continuing saga of the motorbikes. To recap for those of you not living it, he had the ball-shaking bike accident and that meant his nice new good bike was written off and he only got $300 back for it after finance was paid off, so then we had to dip into meagre savings to buy Nell's Ex's old bike for cheap, but it's been sitting in Nell's garage for 2 years and it's not running so well, which meant that Fixit has been disappearing mentally and physically from the family circle while he tries to sort this out. Then he admitted defeat and sent it off to a shop to be professionally examined. Meanwhile a kind friend generously loaned his motorbike to Fixit. Then on Tuesday night some idiot in a car backed into it while Fixit was in at the chiropractor and didn't even notice, so Fixit came outside to find his friend's bike on the ground and some exactly matching paint scrapes on the car in front of it. Fancy knocking a whole motorbike over and not noticing! So even though I was teaching that night I had to put the kids and the camera in the car to come down and document the paint evidence and then he sat there for another 2 hours until a cop showed up and they found the car's owner. So with all that drama going on, I ended up having to bring the kids with me to the Tap Hall, where they sat quietly reading and drawing while I taught class. I think they quite enjoyed it. To cap off an evening of drama, Cherub's third wobbly tooth was hanging by a thread so rather than go through any lost or swallowed tooth agony, I yanked it out before we went home.

That hardly EVER happens.

The Cherub, who was so worried about swallowing his first ever wobbly tooth, swallowed his first ever wobbly tooth this morning.

He didn't even notice. It was just that I had looked at it 5 minutes prior and said That tooth is ready to fall out. Go on, give it a pull, that'll definitely come out. But he balked, claiming it was *too slippery*. Then he ate his bowl of cereal, and halfway through, came to tell me something and I noticed the gap.

Disaster.

Tears, a futile search in the bowl of nutri-grain. I knew instantly he'd swallowed it but he was so upset that we had to have a little look, just in case. Climber even checked under the table for us.

My suggestion that the Tooth Fairy might be able to fly down his throat in the middle of the night, if he left his mouth open, and retrieve it, just made matters worse and nearly caused hysterics. So in the end we said we'd write a note. And eventually, he started to cheer up.



Ironically, when Cherub had his wobbly about his wobbly tooth, this was the exact conversation we'd had, just before he went to sleep, because he was still in a bit of a state:

Cherub: I don't want to swallow my too-oo-ooth.
Me: Oh that hardly ever happens. Climber, how many teeth have you lost?
Climber: Umm...8.
Me: And how many have you swallowed?
Climber: None.
Me: There you go Cherub, nothing to worry about.

Wobbly

The Cherub is one of the last 2 children in his prep class yet to lose a baby tooth. No little gaps in his perfect smile yet. So when he announced yesterday that he thought he had a wobbly tooth, Fixit and I said Ooh really, let us look, wow! thinking that he would be equally excited.

We were therefore surprised when he burst into tears and quavered I don't want to have a wobbly tooth. When we asked why he said I don't want there to be bloo-o-o-d, so of course we hastened to reassure him that there was hardly any blood. To no avail. He was sad and scared and rapidly dropping his bundle.



Because although we had forgotten the great trampoline head-and-wobbly-tooth-collision of 2008, the Cherub had not...


... and there was a lot of blood involved in the loss of that particular wobbly tooth, and a very distraught Climber, and looking back I don't think we properly took on how traumatised the Cherub felt, being the accidental cause of the carnage. He cried, I remember, and I comforted and reassured him that it wasn't his fault (although from memory Climber might have been casting aspersions) but mostly I was dealing with a bloodied, and slightly hysterical big brother.

So meanwhile the 4 year old Cherub had imprinted this wobbly tooth episode - and only this one; there have been at least 7 other incidences in his big brother's life - on to his little psyche. No wonder he fears the wobbly tooth. And the more he thought about it, the more his fear grew. He started to insist that he wouldn't be able to jump on the trampoline any more or eat apples and it was all getting very pathetic.

However, an imaginary conversation between Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy bumping into each other on Christmas Eve Hohoho Tooth Fairy I haven't seen you for a while, how's business? Good thanks Santa, that's some nice looking presents you've got there, fancy young Cherub losing his first tooth just before Christmas etc raised a small smile, and a story session that evening featuring Charlie and Lola's My Wobbly Tooth Must Never, Ever Fall Out and Climber and the Tooth Fairy made him feel a bit better.

Confession

Here's an excerpt from a little book I wrote for the Climber when he was 4. I thought I'd share it with you in case you were unsure of why the Tooth Fairy has been collecting teeth from little children all these years. We're picking up the action here after the Climber's tooth had fallen out and the blood made him feel like crying and his father had been unable to satisfactorily explain why the Climber needed to part with his pearly white and he'd gone to bed with the tooth under the pillow only to be woken by a fairy trying to shift his head out of the way. Thus.





Now for my confession:

I didn't give all the Climber's baby teeth to the Tooth Fairy.

Even though I know she needs them, and there could be a fairy dust crisis out there for all I know. But I just wanted to keep a couple. I don't know why. I don't even know what I'm going to do with them.

In fact, so far all I have done with them is hide them in my junky kitchen cupboard, up high (as if that could ever be fool-proof in our house with my children) in the same place as we often keep ... lollies.

So guess what? Climber came into the bathroom as I was about to step into my shower, and, with an air of one determined to make a clean breast of it, he announced that he knew the tooth fairy wasn't real. I stood there reeling for a minute and then, in this order, but with lengthy pauses in between as I tried to work out what to say next, I said:

How do you know? (I found my teeth and a note in a cupboard).
Were you looking for lollies? (Yes)
Bad. (I'm sorry)
You mustn't tell the Cherub. (I already have...why?)
Well, because...err..umm .. he's only little, hasn't even lost a tooth yet...

... and finally, finally I stammered about how I hadn't wanted to give them all away because I just wanted to keep some for myself.




And like a weight had been thrown from his shoulders, he stopped looking so worried and cheerfully dashed out to the tell the Cherub that she does exist and Mummy had just kept a few teeth.

Another tooth, another dollar.

Yes, in an action-packed post I can divulge the breathtaking news that Climber lost his sixth baby tooth yesterday ( Fixit tells me he came out of the bedroom in tears last night because although he was glad to give the tooth fairy her due and get the reward, he was feeling really sad to part with such a fine-looking tooth.) Coinci-dentally [see what I did there, yep one lame pun and I think I'm a legend] the boys had their check-up at the dentist on the same day, at which we were informed that Climber has grown all four of his six-year-old molars (that's the first time I'd heard of such things, live and learn) and my lovely dentist recommended fissure sealing for them at $42 a pop. It's the buzzword in childhood dentistry, a bit like anti-decay insurance. All the kids are doing it, and who am I not to protect my beloveds against the trauma of fillings?

Six months ago when we took the boys to their first ever appointment, Cherub needed me up with him in the dentist's chair. Yesterday he remembered this and put it down to his being 3 at the time. Now that he's 4, he told me, he was going to sit in it by himself, he didn't need to sit on my knee. Clearly being 4 makes all the difference. However, he tells me next time he doesn't want to wear the glasses. I don't know why. He looked quite cool in them.

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.

That was quick.

There's been carnage on the new trampoline.

Don't worry. It's only the wobbly tooth that we predicted would be gone by the end of the week. (And just as an aside it's about time!! It has been a long time between tooth fairy visits for this little blonde bunny)

But it gave him a big fright. He was still recovering from the incident involving grazes and splinters from yesterday's stay in the gym crèche. So he was not as stoic as usual and there were screams from the tramp till I ran out, and much spitting of blood, and then there was a fair bit of sobbing until I was able to clean him up a little and talk it into something he could deal with. That tooth was coming out anyway the face-washer will stop the bleeding it couldn't have been too bad or other teeth would have come out too now the tooth fairy will have to come you are going to have quite a lot of money what with this and your other savings I wonder what you'll buy with it probably lego. He's okay now. Just gotta hope the daddy tooth grows in quick to disguise that horrible gap.

In the wee small hours of the morning

5.45am Friday 22nd September: Awake to the sound of Climber yelling my name loudly and repeatedly. His wobbly tooth fell out! Decide not to put it out for the Tooth Fairy until tonight so that we can properly inspect and admire the tooth. Go back to bed. On way walk past Fixit and Climber both standing at the toilet bowl doing their morning wee together. Nice father/son bonding, guys.

9.00am Friday 22nd September : Check Climber's baby diary to work out how long he's had that tooth. (5 years, 2 months and 8 days. First to arrive, first to fall out). Realise will probably not be able to do the same thing for poor second child. Sorry, Cherub, your baby diary is full of blanks.

He looks so different. Will take a while to get used to the gappy smile!