I agreed way back in June but Ivy was in hospital.

Then I agreed over the last school holidays but Ivy was sick and four out of the seven kids came out in this weird rashy thing, so the sleepover was put on hold again.

The year is wearing on though and a deal is a deal.

So I agreed to Halloween night.

With a spooky theme.

The spookiest thing is that there will be twenty something tween and pre teens there.

It is  to scary.

I’ll be lucky to survive.

We don’t usually celebrate Halloween in the boonies. Aside from the occasional teenager who just wants to peg eggs, no matter how much you treat them, so this is quite a new thing for me to be planning.

The girls are all dressing up and we are going to play games, eat and watch a scary movie. ( I offered to come in and teach them how to dance, you know, Madonna Mummy style, with a ’stir the pot’ and a bit of the old ‘look at your watch’ moves thrown in but they were all..um…no, Mum, that’s okay. So, I guess we’ll make do with the other things).

Yeah, twenty something squealing girls, hyped up on sugar and pizza, watching a freaky film.

There will be little sleep at this sleepover, me thinks.

You think I’m crazy, right?

Right?

Well, there is method in my madness.

The deal (as mentioned above) is that the girls can have this big party, this spooky sleepover, in exchange for their first born child four years of peace.

Yep, no parties until the big twins turn 16.

What?

I don’t do teenagers well.

I just don’t understand them with all of their secret hand shakes and weird made up words and whatever it is that they do these days. “Macking on with their boy in the quad” and what not. “Hangin’ with their girls”.

“WhatEVA!” (The girls just told me it’s ‘Wot Eva’) *sigh* See what wot I mean?

So, I have scored some relief from the packs that they tend to travel in and by the time they are 16, maybe they will have settled into their skins and be sensible. Either that or I will have become deaf and blind so I don’t have to bare witness to any of it.

I know, I sound like a cow of a mother but hello, people, I was the bookhead, library geek in highschool. I just don’t get this whole popularity gig.

Trust me, it will be sanity saving for all of us.

This will probably be my last entry before the scary party. If I don’t make it out alive, I’ll see you all on the other side.

BOO…

hoo hoo.

We practiced make up last night. What do you think?

It’s tomorrow!

Wish them luck. They are two of 700 applicants for dance alone!

Have fun Immy and Maddy!

Much like I was in my younger years. Oh yes, my friends, I was not always The Old Woman Who Lived In The Shoe, I used to love all things thespian, as my mother will proudly tell anyone who will listen. I sang and danced and I was into drama, the whole shebang. Yes, even musicals.

Anyhoo, the almost twelve year olds have followed in my footsteps.

They dance.

Maddy sings.

Immy is into drama.

They are auditioning for The Performing Arts High School later in the year.

They were successful in gaining a  place in the Gifted and Talented camp, this coming August.

They are the quintessential drama queens. (Do I sound like my mother much? Oy, now there is a good subject for a blog post…).

This week is Starstruck week. Starstruck is a huge stage show that is performed by the schools, encompassing three areas. This is their second year and also their last. If they don’t get through auditions for the performing arts school, their local highschool does not allow them to participate again until they are in year 9.

The girls have been rehearsing for the last two months and tonight is the first performance.

It is a big week for the girls, exhausting, exciting, thrilling. Today is their ‘pyjama day’ where they will be allowed to sloth around in ugg -  booty -  goodness before the show.

Lily and I are going to tonight’s performance… as they say in show business, break a leg, girls. Break a leg!

There’s not alot I can say to describe the metal that envelopes my daughter’s teeth.

The experience was as good as it could be.

The girl’s mouth is incredibly sore today and I am respectful of her pain.

She has kindly permitted me to show you the photos of the ordeal, so I can keep it on the blog, for historical purposes, you know?

I’m so glad I never had to have braces…

Imogen’s time for braces has come.

Yesterday she went down to the Children’s Hospital and had spacers placed on her back  molars. Ironically her molars are overcrowded, where, in the front, she has small and missing teeth, leaving huge spaces in between each one. It hurt her, alot. They had to prise her molars apart to wedge the little round spacers in. Next week, there should be enough space for the metal rings for the braces to be placed.

I have never had to have braces, actually, I’ve never even had a filling, so I have no understanding of what my girl has had to go through thus far.

David has and does and has told me so many horror stories.

They filed his teeth down!

Filed. Them. Down!

Owwwwwie. No wonder he is petrifiied of the dentist.

The kids at school used to call her ‘crocodile teeth’ because, when you have Ectodermal Dysplasia, your teeth form in a conical shape. (David used to be called wolf boy for the same reason). When she was nine the dentist capped and reshaped some of her front teeth, so that they were square. As a result, she was a much happier girl.

I guess some things have changed since David was little.

Now we have come to the next phase. The braces will go on next Monday and stay on for about two years. Then they will build her teeth up and place titanium implants to encourage tooth regrowth.

The end result should be wonderful.