A New Tradition (For Me)...

I’ve started a new tradition in my house.

(It's happened thrice which totes counts as a tradition, it’s basically an institution now).

It’s to do with half terms, winter breaks and Chocathons Easter hols.

And it’s to do with me missing out on half term fun.

As a reluctant Dad at work...

Miss7: 'Hi Daddy! Nice day at work?'

Yes thanks... What did you ALL get up to this fine mid-half-term day? Day FOUR into your TWO weeks off? <Does weird smile>

Miss7: 'Loads of awesome stuff!'

Wooo... <Is feeling very mature about it all>  

So happy for you all <Also doesn’t care>

Miss7: 'But we thought it wasn't fair that you had to work all the time, whilst we're having so much fun!'

<Is shocked and more than a little touched>

REALLY?

<Tears well>

Miss7: 'Yep. We thought you might like to join in the game we were playing earlier?'

I would love to <Wipes away tear> I would really love to!

Miss7: 'It's round here' <Leads me outside the house>

Er... What game were you playing?

Miss7: 'Water bombs! NOW!' <Runs for cover>

WHAT? NOOOOOOOOO!!!

<Does Platoon pose>

(<Tuts at the state of the garden after the winter>)

So the great new tradition I’ve worked out?

Well it’s pretty simple. Every half term. I take a day off work.

Yep. TADA!

<Dusts off hands… Work is done>

<Turns off PC>

<Turns off lights>

<Leaves house>

<Burns down house>

<Is watching flames>

[Mrs. Amazing arrives]

Mrs. Amazing: ‘WHAT THE FABRIC HAVE YOU DONE?’

<Does wistful face> It was over… It had to be done…

<Boy10 holds Mrs. Amazing back>

What? You want details? Oooo… Of course!

<Stops sending message telepathically>

So why?

Well it’s simple. I finally got fed up with half terms being something that happens to everyone else in the house. Except me...

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Check these out’

<Mrs. Amazing, Boy10, Miss7 and BabyBoy3 show me their new t-shirts>

Nice… ‘Best 2018 Easter half term ever’... Cool…

<Heart is breaking>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Don’t look so sad, we got you one!’ <Passes t-shirt>

<Holds up t-shirt> ‘I worked through the Best 2018 Easter half term ever’

<Drops t-shirt> I’ll be in the chocolate cupboard… <Climbs in>

[Sobbing and munching sounds can be heard]

The drudgery (yes drudgery) of going to work Monday to Friday on and on.

Was getting to me. It sucked.

And it was not helped by everyone else having a week!!! OR TWO!!! Off every few months (don't get me started on Summer hols).

Playing. Going on adventures.

Awesome stuff.

I love playing!

I frickin’ love mad adventures. That’s my special skill. Being in, and the main fault of creating mad adventures. The madder the better! Normally with me in charge (??).

Planning? PAH! That's for people that want to know what is going to happen! Where's the adventure in that.

I also love spending time with my children. All of them. Really. Yeah even Boy10 in full on grump.

And I don’t actually need to be out doing expensive amazing things with them either.

Just time together is cool. An a day spent playing hide and seek, paper plane fights, and a good scoot round the block, and I’m happy.

And chocolate.

However amazing things can be found.

And cheaply! Hoooray! This tradition is not a money-money-splashy-splashy thingy.

As I've no money...

<Empty pockets>

[Maglite, pocket knife, lighter, 8GB memory stick, keys, gum, 14p, and a LEGO Wicket arm fall to floor]

See! <Picks up 14p before Boy10 sees it>

So who needed to sort this out?

Make this new tradition, traditionanised (real wordy), traditioninated? Any guesses?

No? It’s one of Team Parent (yay!)...? It isn’t Mrs. Amazing? No? Seriously?

Mrs. Amazing was/is already busy sorting out her own stuff every half term. Mainly looking after three mad short people (children). Whilst maintaining her sanity. No easy task (due to the children that is...).

Mrs. Amazing did/does not have time to cheer up someone moaning about spending his day in adult-land, with peace and quiet, warm tea and cakes, at work.

No.

Mrs. Amazing already has three children to care for. <Counts them> Yes three.

If I wanted how half terms go down to change.

It was up to me.

<Does super Dad pose>

<Holds tummy as long as possible>

<Has methane escape>

(<Builds power levels>…)

So that's what I did/do.

It was/is exhausting. It takes planning. And arranging stuff AHEAD of time with Mrs. Amazing (I cannot stress enough how important the ahead of time bit is).

All stuff I hate! And suck at. Planning. URGH! Structure! URGH! Low fat mayo! URGH! <Voms a little>

But I do it because of them, and for me. And because I want in on the half term fun.

And why the hell not?

My criteria for our AMAZING DAY OUT TOGETHER is simple:

1. We all have to go.

ALL of us. No one is allowed to stay at home sat in front of YouTube instead (Boy10) or just stay at home alone enjoying everyone else not being there (me and Mrs. Amazing). No one is allowed to stay at home colouring in all day (Miss7).

And definitely no one can stay at home watching Fireman all day (BabyBoy3).

There’s laws and stuff.

2. Cost wise it needs to be very much on the lowness side.

There's frikkin' five of us. FIVE! That’s a gitish family ticket, and one more. Because apparently family's are limited to four. Since-the-smeg when?

I did look into going to a really cool dinosaur thing in London recently. It looked hella amazing. We all would have loved it so much. Me most.

It probably would have scared BabyBoy3 a bit, but he would have still loved it once he stopped crying.

It was £30 each. That’s £150 straight off. Even £30 for BabyBoy3 who is prone to sleeping randomly, or not wanting to do something really fun for no reason other than his socks feel weird. And it was only an hour long!

I know strip clubs that charge less than that!

(Obvs. I don't they all charge a lot more I do not indulge in that kind of thing).

3. Ideally it should be all day.

My holiday days from work are like gold dust, covered in chocolate, sat on a big Star Wars pile, playing brilliant music, cake (go on picture it). And I don't have enough. Never will.

If I am taking a day off from work to be with my kids and Mrs. Amazing.

I wanna max it right out. End to end stuff.

If I'm not crawling into bed at 9pm utterly exhausted, bruises on my knees, head spinning with wonder and excitement, phone full of pictures.

Then what the jammy dodger was I doing?

4. It’s gotta be vaguely educational, or cultural.

Ideally both. I don’t know why. I just think it's important I push these sort things too. As Dad.

Plus I like stuff like that too.

That doesn’t mean we’re going to art galleries I careth not about. Nope.

That would be dumb. I can’t get anyone excited unless I care myself.

It just means that dragging the entire family miles to see an exhibition of 'Raiders of the Lost Arc' stuff is very much on the cards. Cultural and educational and historical.

And awesome.

And then there's the actual work.

The stuff that I need to do to make sure the day happens. The stuff that if I don't do, then someone else has to do. Ergo Mrs. Amazing.

And we've discussed that, if I want it, then it's on me.

So here’s the work I do.

If it helps you, good. If not, sorry. If I'm doing it dumb, then tell me better...

A long time before the day:

With Mrs. Amazing we pick a day we are all free in the half term and I book it off.

Maybe months before. Cancelling leave last minute is really easy.

Taking leave last minute not so much.

<Is begging> Please?

Boss: 'Hmmm...' <Rolls two billion-sided dice>

Boss: 'You need ten...'

COOL!

Boss: 'Or less.'

Oh...

Nearer the time:

Pick where to go.

It’s really weird this country. There’s loads of amazing free stuff out there. But it's the stuff that costs money that's shoved in your faces. I suppose advertising.

But still... there’s the National History Museum (Dinosaur bones), National Science Museum (Cool science stuff) and Imperial War Museum (War stuff) - All free.

We’ve been to all three. All bloody brilliant. Will go again.

A few days before:

Work out all the incredibly boring travel logistics.

URGH. This bit sucks. But yay for Google as basically I tap in where I live and where I wanna go and it tells me how to get there. MAGIC!

Then I swear and curse at the irritating train ticket booking websites. Before handing over loads of cash for discounts cards (Friends and Family). Then regretting choosing to pick up the tickets from the station, trying to be all modern and paper free, and it’s free. But then stressing about it until I have the tickets in my hands.

Day before:

I print out a map of where we are going. With street names. Very important.

Yep me and Mrs. Amazing both have phones. With GPS, and maps.

But picture it. Three train insane children running about. It’s raining. There are bears.

We're utterly lost in London and there’s no phone signal. Or our GPS's aren't working, or have gone mad like Mrs. Amazing’s did last time.

Or just for some peace stupidly we let Boy10, Miss7 and BabyBoy3 drain our phone batts on the train on the way up.

We need a paper map.

(Don’t worry! I’ve a map! <Pulls out map>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Oh brilliant, you are so....’ <Gives me a look>

Now... we need to find a big skull shaped rock…

Mrs. Amazing: <Heads of to ask help from a fellow adult>)

Night before:

I make and pack enough sandwiches, snacks, treats, fruit, drinks, waters, elevenies pick-me-ups, sugar boost emergency treats for little ones, sugar boost emergency treats for big ones... etc. Enough food to feed the entire population of Luton, or us five for a day.

It normally takes me two hours to do it. Which if I removed the singing time, gurning, air guitar solos and pretending I’m J.K., could possibly be an hour.

But where would be the fun?

In bed (far too late at night):

Talk through my the plan with Mrs. Amazing.

Actually work as a team and let Mrs. Amazing have input. Which is generally a good idea because she is better than me at remembering medicines, clothing changes, child safety, how the real world actually works, and that I can only carry BabyBoy3 half the distance I think I can. Or, and this was a winner, how best to utilise a visit to Imperial War Museum with Boy10’s school work.

Together we rock.

Then finally we are ready.

Ready to have exhausting fun. In the half term. All day.

Me included.

X

Epilogue:

Mate: ‘Yo! Blood! How’s it going?’

[Both do very intricate, but totally over the top handshake ritual]

[..still going…]

[... and done]

Yeah good man. You?

Mate: <Nods cooly>

Did ya read me latest blog?

Mate: ‘Yeah! Utterly, utterly, brilliant. Bravo. <Claps> I’m so doing that’

Thanks

Mate: ‘So where did you all go this half term? As per your new tradition!’

…

…

Bums... I forgot!

Mate: ‘It’s lucky you’re pretty then’

Cheers… <Doesn't feel very pretty>

Easter Rainbow Fountains...

Not sure why.

But Easter season in our house is puke season.

It's not over indulgent chocolate related either.

It just seems that whatever germs are about floating about Easter-ish our little charges get them all.

And then yip.

Oooooo <Rubs tummy in a give me sympathy way>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Bad tummy?'

Yeah... <Sad puppy Strong but suffering face>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Have you got what the kids have?'

Yeah probably... <Fights back tears>

Mrs. Amazing: '... er... you... er...'

Mrs. Amazing: '... you haven't just eaten lots of chocolate and now feel sick?'

...

Define lots?

Mrs. Amazing: 'The amount I eat in one sitting, times ten'

Then yes... <Sees all sympathy leaving>

<Rubs own tummy>

All the kids.

All four thousand three of them. Have been sick of late. Vomed. Yakked. Chucked up. Had an emergency food escape. Been to puke town. Greened.

Yippage.

But let's not call it being sick. As no one wants to read stories of people going to puke town.

Nope. Instead let's go with 'rainbow streams'.

E.g. Consider...

'Did Miss6 just hurl huge chunks everywhere?'

versus...

'Did Miss6 just rainbow fountain everywhere?'

See a lot nicer.

(As modelled by some pandas… as is the fashion… (it’s not))

All the kids have been creating rainbow fountains.

Everywhere. At night. During the day. On and on.

The washing machine has been working on overdrive. Constantly cleaning sheets, pillows, duvets and clothing. Only Boy9 is able to get to a rainbow collection bucket in time.

Well done Boy9. Thoroughly appreciated.

Miss6. Getting there.

BabyBoy2. Dude... You're not even trying.

(He's not, he cares not).

Anyhoo...

Team Parent (yay!).

Were giggling along to the latest episode of Peter Kay's Car Share. Great show.

When we heard BabyBoy2 leave his room. Shut his door. Because he likes doors shut (??) and THUD THUD into our room. For such tiny feet he has hella heavy foot falls.

A quick reminder that I am on BabyBoy2 duty as I put him to bed from the rest of Team Parent (yay!). And I am off to see what is going on.

Poor little lad. Stomping about in the dark trying to find his parents in their room.

When they are downstairs watching tele.

I switch on lights as I go and eventually find BabyBoy2 looking at our bed wondering where on earth we both are...

You alright mate?

BabyBoy2: <Sad voice> 'Wet'

And not just wet.

Wet would have been good. Wet is a change of clothes. A new nappy. Wet wipe anywhere that's too smelly. Cuddles. And back to bed. Easy.

Nope.

The smell on walking into the room tells me it's not just 'wet'. The poor little sausage has been sick.

Which always makes my heart skip a little in fear. Because what if?

But all three of them have done it for years and been fine.

Heart skip done. I pick him up and it's all down his front.

Rainbow juice that is.

I call for Mrs. Amazing.

<Grabs Bat phone>

And the standard Team Parent (yay!) disaster recovery team goes into action.

Mrs. Amazing arrives and takes BabyBoy2 into the bathroom. I pass her fresh jammies and nappy. Whilst I head into BabyBoy2's room to see how bad the situation is.

Rainbow fluid needs serious cleaning and clearing up. Else the smell stays.

I pray that by chance BabyBoy2 has somehow got himself a bucket and has filled it.

No chance.

(What’s in the bucket?

Boy9: ‘Rainbows’

Oh ni…. EWWWWW!

I nearly pass out walking into his room.

And I've been called to a lot rainbow affected rooms. Still this smell staggers me.

Yuk.

Like a crime scene investigator I work out where the rainbow fountain came from and what has happened. It seems pretty clear BabyBoy2 had sat up at some point. Created his rainbow.

And then gone back to sleep.

Rainbow damage can be severe.

Bed sheets. Duvet. Floor mat. Anywhere it touches.

Luckily he missed all his teddies. As they are a right pain to wash and kill germs with.

I pull off all the sheets and bundle them by the door.

Mrs. Amazing adds to the bundle with a towel and BabyBoy2's jammies. All rainbow stained.

Then I realise the very cool and very helpful plastic sheet we normally have on his bed.

Isn't there. Crap.

Undersheets off too. And brilliant! There's a towel there.

Mrs. Amazing you either had quite a moment and put a towel away really, really badly. Or, and it's this one, you're the kind of genius that puts a towel under your two year olds sheets just in case.

I remove the towel and sniff the mattress.

Brainzilla: 'You did what?'

I wanted to be sure...

Brainzilla: 'And if it was pukey, how would your nose feel?'

... <Head drops>... But it wasn't...

Brainzilla: 'This time!'

Good point git...

Then I clean up what is on the floor.

It's going to go in about third on my list of things I've done that were so gross I nearly rainbowed myself. And I've a long list. I watched a Bieber video once.

And I'm normally sent in as cleaner. This isn't my first clean up. It won't be my last.

And I'm male. I have to use male toilets. Which are gross. I am sure it makes you stronger against smells like this. Still...

It's a bad one.

<Nearly makes own rainbow fountain>

I fill the washing machine with sheets.

Boil wash to make sure the germs are deaded as much as possible. And as I don't want to be scraping off rainbow chunks. I stuff as much as I can in the machine without overfilling it. I want the machine to do the scraping for me. As I don't want to. Ew.

There's two loads worth. So the rest I wrap in itself and leave until the morning.

As a present!

Before I head back up stairs.

I turn off the tele. The lights. Everything. Power up the security grids, release the dragons, and set the attack robots to kill maim.

Without even asking Mrs. Amazing I know that tonight is done. We'll finish Car Share another night. Poorly boy has arrived.

All other activities suspended.

Once back in Team Parents (yay!) bedroom.

I find Mrs. Amazing in jammies ready for bed (told you). A smaller bed laid out next to ours.

BabyBoy2 was recently upgraded from cot to bed. So we have a mattress hanging about. Silver linings etc.

A spare pillow and case found for BabyBoy2. And there sat under a warm blanket, freshly cleaned and washed. Big smile on his face.

And basically very happy about life and what's going on. BabyBoy2.

Who it seems could not be happier to be in our room for a change. It's all very exciting for him. But he's knackered and after only a few Shhhh'es and Dude's!

BabyBoy2 finally crashes out.

Next day.

I have the day off to look after him. Mrs. Amazing heads off into the real world to battle sea demons and save ancient civilizations (I may have misunderstood what she said).

I call nursery as they refuse to have any rainbowers at all (and still charge us).

Then I launder the crap out of everything. Really put the washing machine through it's paces once again.

Sun is out and it's windy. So everything is dry and ready to go back on BabyBoy2's bed that afternoon. Which we do together (BabyBoy2 mainly watches and jumps on stuff).

As we (I) finish I tell BabyBoy2 the good news he can sleep in his own bed tonight...

BabyBoy2: 'NOOOOOOOOOOO! Me sleep in your room. Not go back my room!' <Cries a bit>

Come on... Let's see what sheets we can find for you...

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!'

You mean Spider-man... (we don't have any Iron Man sheets)

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!!!'

...

<Cannot find Iron Man or Spidey sheets anywhere>

<Finds Buzz sheets but no pillow>

How about Buzz Lightyear? <Is hopeful>

BabyBoy2: <Maybe face>

With this pillow case? <Holds pillow that is clearly not Buzz>

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!!!' <Is going to cry again>

BabyBoy2: '...'

BabyBoy2: <Suddenly runs to Team Parent's (yay!) room>

Where are you going?... <Watches lazily helplessly>

BabyBoy2: <Returns holding the spare pillow he had last night>

Brilliant!

(No no!... No!

… that's my pillow…)

Would you believe it.

BabyBoy2 had remembered what pillowcase he had been given last night. Nutter.

I hadn't for obv. reasons. Who cares.

But back came BabyBoy2. Holding his Buzz LightYear pillow case like a sack of flour .

Now, very happy to sleep in his own bed again.

Little loonie.

X