Our eight wheeler

"The cutest thing I'm going to see all day" is what the sales girl said to Michael when Buster was getting fitted for his roller skates.  This level of cutest we experience everyday.  It's the twinkle in his eye, the scattered freckles across his nose, and the single dimple when he grins.  It quite simply is the magic of our little man Boo.

Finding roller skates for small people (especially boys) is not easy.  Milly's skates were found in a toy store and Henry's blades at a sports store.  Poor Buster was in tears that we couldn't find any for him.  After some rigorous hunting by Nanoo she located a specialist roller skating shop 35km away, and on the weekend Michael took him to get the skates.

Once home he immediately wanted to try them out.  We don't really have a smooth, flat surface for skating on, but an attempt was made in our carport anyway.

What we really needed was a visit to Nanoo's house where there is plenty of concrete to skate on. The weather conditions at Nanoo's slowed us down but there were some chances for Boo to have a go and he's already looking forward to going back for more skating time.

Skates

The kids received some school holiday gifts from Nanoo.  She has a long, flat concreted driveway that is perfect for learning to skate on.

Once Henry and Milly had found their balance and confidence, they tested their new skills at the nearby park.

ANZAC walk

Michael's parents came to stay recently and on a wonderful, sunny winter's day we got to show off and enjoy a new local landmark - the ANZAC memorial walk.

The walk commemorates the 100th anniversary of the ANZAC landing at Gallipoli, as well as the commencement of steel making in Newcastle.  It is a tribute to the local men and women who served their community and country.

The walk is situated on a long cliff top and features steel silhouettes of soldiers inscribed with nearly 4,000 family names of the regions men and women enlisted in World War I.

The coastline setting is truly beautiful and the day we even saw some whales heading north.

Colonial day

I remember when I was in primary school learning about colonial Australia.  I also remember the weeks spent learning bush dances.  It promised to be fun at the time.  You got to get out of the classroom, but the trade off was having to partner with a boy, hold his hands, or have his arms around your waist.  When you're 10 years old, there is nothing joyous about it.  It was all very icky for everyone involved.

So here we are some 30 (cough) years later and Henry has been enduring the same educational ritual.  Although, hopefully he is learning more about our true colonial heritage which includes our indigenous history.

While I don't remember having to dress up in colonial costume when I was in primary school, it was all too familiar when I showed up to watch Henry and his school year bush dance and the unease they displayed with touching each other or making eye contact.

Kids in the kitchen - ambulance needed

Well our first day of the school holidays started in the normal lazy fashion.  No one was keen to escape their warm beds, especially me (actually that's me everyday).  It wasn't long before it was almost 10.00am and no one had had breakfast.  Instead of the usual toast or porridge, the kids asked for something special.  Three cheers for pikelets went up and so I had a shower, got dressed and headed down to the kitchen.

My trusty helper Buster was by my side tipping the ingredients into the bowl and giving them a good whisk.  Today I thought I'd take his cooking skills to the next level and show him how I cook them.  So he could see, I stood him on a chair next to me at the stove top and I showed him when the pikelets start to bubble they are ready to flip and cook on the other side.  He was keen to have a go at flipping and I said ok.  Some he flipped where great, others he flipped turned into messes - but that's all the joys of learning to cook.  When the last of the pikelets had been flipped I turned off the gas and said he could spatula the cooked the pikelets onto a plate.

It was at this moment my heart stopped.  I still don't understand how it happened because I was right there, but his body fell forward onto the frying pan and he screamed.  I also screamed and grabbed him.  The inside of his wrist had landed heavily on the rim of the hot frying pan we had been using.  I looked at his wrist and panicked.  This wasn't a superficial burn you get from briefly touching something hot, this was deeper.  He was in pain and shock.

I stuck his wrist under the kitchen tap and kept the water running.  Poor Boo just kept crying and saying "I wish I had stayed in bed today".  I was scared and he was scared so I called Triple 000 for an ambulance, which managed to freak him out even more.

The ambulance arrived within about eight minutes and the paramedics took charge.  While the burn was the worst I'd seen, it wasn't the worst they had seen and they put a special compress on him and bandaged him up.  They talked me through how to care for it, the blister it would form, and to look out for signs of infection.  They also said he had burned through a 3-4 layers of skin and it was likely he would have a permanent scar.

When the paramedics left, all the kids wanted was the pikelets.  The poor darlings were starving.  Milly, having shown no concern for Buster at the time of injury, was now his nurse.  She grabbed her favourite pillow and made sure he rested his injured arm on it.  She put pikelets on his plate and put his favourite spreads on them.  Even now two days after the event, she still is looking out for him.

As for me, I'm still carrying the guilt.  Guilt for letting him near a hot fry pan, and guilt for calling emergency services.

Meanwhile, Buster is running around as if it didn't happen.  It's only when his burn starts to sting does he slow down and remember he's meant to be taking it easy.  Wish I had his resilience.

Two days later before redressing.