My No-Plan Day Off...

It's Easter holiday time.

Which means everyone is off and at home having a great fun time.

Sun's nearly out in the UK. The tundras (we had a bit of snow) have moved on, the outside is once again calling.

Time to wind down, relax and just be free. Lovely!

Except me. Obvs. I still have to go to work.

I don't get Easter holidays...

(BabyBoy3: ‘Daddy I found these…’

Nice mate!

BabyBoy3: ‘What I do with them now?’

Give them to me

AH HAHHAAHHHHAHHAAAAAA

You share them eat them…)

BabyBoy3: 'What me doin' today?'

You're at home with Mummy!

BabyBoy3: 'Mummy not going to work?'

Nope...

BabyBoy3: 'Miss7 go to school?'

Nope...

BabyBoy3: 'Boy10 go to school?'

Nope...

BabyBoy3: 'You goin' work?'

Yup... <Wishes BabyBoy3 wouldn't do this every morning>

BabyBoy3: 'Ohhh' <Looks sad about this>

<Feels better and leans in to give BabyBoy3 a kiss>

BabyBoy3: 'AHHHCHOOOO' <Full body sneezes>

<Is covered in snot> ... thanks... <Wipes face>

Except today!

Today I have a day off workingtons. Mrs. Amazing has urgent worky stuff to be there for, a peace summit between the warring clans of Ogres and Goblins, or something, and thus, like a beautiful wind on the sea, has flown off for work.

Leaving me with Boy10, Miss6 and BabyBoy3 to look after, feed and generally have a laugh with. Well that's my plan anyway. The first two bits may fall by the wayside.

But the having a laugh bit I am totes going for.

(I was told off by someone yesterday for using 'totes'. He was mid-twenties and claimed I shouldn't be using such words at my age. I told him he couldth stickth his head up his bum and smeg right off. I'll word it reet up how I iz wanting blood! We totes laughed about it together).

The first hurdle.

To our day of fun though was breakfast. They all needed another round of it. I don't breakfast, tummy issues. But that's OK everyone else in the house makes up for me, and has two.

This was round two. Pancakes are generally a winner for them all. But they had all been a bit painful about pancakes recently.

So before slaving away at the stove making loads of pancakes, only to have to throw them all away later. Annoying. I went round and checked pancakes were wanted.

BabyBoy3 started chanting 'PAN-CAKES! PAN-CAKES!' and punching the air on each beat. He's in.

Miss7 was less convincing as I had to offer pancakes thricely, until she stopped replying with cereal, and got pancake excited.

And Boy10 reluctantly removed his headphones, yet carried on playing Fortnite as he was twenty billionth this time and didn't want his concentration interrupted.

He did manage to focus on me, offering him breakfast, for free, for long enough to say he was in though. Thanks dude.

Pancakes was ago!

I say pancakes.

There are pancakes involved. Obvs. I cook them and make them. To size order.
You can have big, medium and small, or snowflake shaped. Basically your option is limited to what pans we have. But it’s not the pancakes themselves that the kids love.

No.

It’s the Golden Syrup.

Which they all love. None of them would even touch pancakes that were not slathered in either Golden Syrup or sugar and lemon. It's all about the Golden Syrup.

The pancakes are a good front though. It’s a lie we are all happy to believe.

Team Parent (yay!) believe we are giving them a filling carb packed home cooked breakfast of flour, eggs and milk. Brilliant!

And the kids known that there's gonna be loads of sugar, in some form, on the boring pancakes. I even cook them in butter for them.

We all accept the lie, because it works for all of us.

Shhh… tell no one...

(It’s not perspective, that is a huge Golden Syrup tin…

About the size of BabyBoy3’s head...)

Pancakes were had.

And eaten. In fact they were demolished. BabyBoy3 ate as much as Boy10 did, and he eats a lot. Miss7 had enough pancakes to need a banana afterwards. Meh. Can’t win them all.

But after the pancakes came the dreaded question.

The question I had no real answer for. What are we doing today?
Obvs. I had some ideas. But really I am just trusting I can make something up realllll quick.

I like the danger.
It was Boy10 that needed to know what was in store for him that day. (He’s like that, like Mrs. Amazing, need to know).

Boy10: ‘Dad?’

<Is cleaning, singing and dancing round the kitchen>

… union's been on strike… he's down on his luck, it's tough, so tough…

Boy10: <Waves in my face> ‘DAD!’

What? <Turns down music>

Boy10: ‘What are we doing today? What’s the plan?’

Huh? Pl-a-n… A what?

Boy10: ‘Plan. What’s the plan today. You know what a plan is, don’t pretend you don’t know what a plan is. PL-A-N. What are we doing today?’

… And you are?

Boy10: ‘DADDY!’

Fine! I have no plan...

Boy10: <Face goes a little white> <Eye twitches slightly>

And I didn’t.

I was plan less. Despite having eight hours ahead of me with three children. I had no plan.

And it felt good.

For me it feels good because at work they’ve always got a plan for me. Most of my time is planned out for me. So if I have a day off? … Well for me that should be non-planned time.

FREEDOM! <Paints blue cross on face, puts on Mrs. Amazing’s skirts>

All three of them looked up.

Once Boy10 had asked what we were doing today. Everyone looked at me (the three children that is, not the global populous). Wondering what was going to come out of my mouth.
I like to believe they were looking at me with hope in their hearts that sometimes I have ideas that are so fun they could make your head explode just by hearing them. And they thought that might be happening today.

But really it was because the person with all the power, money, resources, and the only one that can reach really high stuff was about to say what the days plan was.

What do you lot want to do?

Miss7 is a sharp cookie.

It has been discussed before here: ‘A Sharp Cookie’. (And surely I meant smart cookie?) (And how did you know my name is Shirely?)

A smart cookie. And Miss7 knows that being first with a idea can make the idea happen.
She was straight in...

Miss7: ‘SWIMMING!!!’

BabyBoy3 is instantly on side with this plan and starts his now signature move of punching the air and shouting ‘SWIM-MING! SWIM-MING!‘.

Boy10 is less keen because he can see the problem that is just occuring to me.

We have no wheels.

OK. I am making that sound a lot cooler than it is.

We do not have the car as Mrs. Amazing took it to get to work.

We’ve plenty of wheels. We’ve scooters galore. But we don’t have the car.

We could take the bus to the swimming pool, which BabyBoy3 would utterly love.

But it’s the going home part that is a problem. Waiting for a bus with an exhausted probably needing a sudden wee BabyBoy3 and a knackered and tired out Miss7, and tired Boy10.

Well that sounds fun level punch in the groin zero.

Plus there’s another problem.

There’s three of them and only one of me and me. Which could make being in the pool pretty tricky.

Boy10 swims great. But the other two are pretty drowny.

And of late I’ve been trying to increase BabyBoy3 confidence around water.

Which has worked! Yay! Too well. Boo…

He’s now fearless and doesn’t listen. And Miss7 is tired already so is likely to be Queen Grump in the pool. And I can see each of them running different ways towards very deep water.

AND NO. NO THANKS.

No swimming I tell them all.

BabyBoy3 stops mid fist in the air and cries. I hug him a bit, but he quickly stops.

Miss7 (still cookie-sharp) suggests park.

We could scoot there I realise.

We could all scoot there. I’ve a scooter too.

WE COULD ALL SCOOT!

PLAN!

We have a great day. And by the time Mrs. Amazing comes back:

We are all still alive. #Win

We are all muddy from the park:

We’ve had lunch in town at Subway. I made the fussy one’s eat theirs later.

We’ve done watercolour (splodges) painting.

We’ve played and done jobs in the garden.

We played hide and seek around the house, which was hilarious.

We watched three episodes together of Dragon Ball Z.

We discovered BabyBoy3 thinks Cricket is Football and he cheats at both.

We ate LOADS of a few chocolate eggs.

We’ve all knackered.

(Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith - A plan god...

<Bows>)

I love it when a no-plan comes together.

<Lights huge cigar>

<Remembers all the kids are watching...>

<Runs>
X

A Little Breakfast Magic...

Monday morning.

Yuk. And a change to the normal routine.

Mrs. Amazing is not taking BabyBoy2 and Boy9 with her as she heads off to save the world work.

Instead me and Miss6 have the dubious pleasure of their company.

Miss6 has requested pancakes.

In her nicest voice. I'd even been given a hug. Hell yeah I'm making pancakes.

We have pancakes a lot. On any day of the week. As it's a meal everyone will eat.

But Miss6 backed up pancake request with the argument that if we can pancakes on a Tuesday (Shrove Tuesday) we can have them on a Monday.

Fair enough.

Team Parent (yay!) only has one misgiving.

Time. As Monday Mrs. Amazing heads off early.

Still Miss6 did ask nicely. And I got an unforced or not-at-all-reluctant hug!

I head downstairs. Put awesome music on. Kettle on. Whisk pancake batter. Start cooking.

To save time I do three pans at once (oh yes, three). I've five to feed.

I ain't got no time for no one-pan crap.

Miss6: 'Daddy can you move this laundry for me'

<Is shuffling pans>... Hang on! <Flips pancake> <Shoves another pancake into oven to keep warm> <Pours batter, swirls>

... Yes?

Miss6: 'Can you move this...please'

Sure... Why don't you just walk around it?... <Glances over at frying pans>

Ok... Is that better?

Miss6: 'No'

<Moves it again> THERE? <Can see burning going on>

Miss6: 'N-o' <Sounds out the word>

Well h-e-r-e is where I am going to put it <Runs back to burning pancakes>

Mrs. Amazing: <Enters room> 'Oh! it's smokey in here'

Mrs. Amazing: <Opens every window everywhere>

<Hides pipe>

<Gives Miss6 quick, minor, evils>

Miss6: <Waves back>

(You know… <Looks at pancake batter>

I think this situation calls for Big Ol’ Beefy..

Boy9: ‘Ol' Beefy?’

Yep! Ol’ Bloody enormous-ENORMOUS frying pan)

I do three sizes of pancakes.

BabyBoy2 and Miss6 prefer small pancakes. It raises the Golden Syrup to pancake ratio I am sure. But also the bigger ones they struggle to cut up. And I'm fed up watching them shove the whole thing into their mouths at once and choking.

It's yuk.

Medium for Miss6 and Boy9. Miss6 likes variety.

And large pancakes for Boy9, Mrs. Amazing and me. Although all of Team Parent (yay!) will eat any size really.

However Miss6 has recently upgraded and now wants big pancakes.

So recent in fact. I did not know.

So as Boy9’s still not at the table. I give Miss6 of Boy9's large pancakes.

I am sure it will be fine.

Brainzilla: '... It won't though, will it?'

Lalalalala Not cooking anymore, it'll WILL be fine Lalalalala

Then Mrs. Amazing escapes leaves for the day.

Boy9 enters and sits...

[Sinister music plays]

[One millisecond has passed]

<Has to break up fight between Boy9 and Miss6. Apparently Miss6 was looking at him>

Miss6: 'I was looking at the trees outside'

OK... Move here. Look at trees. But most importantly EAT <Points at cold pancakes>

Boy9, I'll get your pancakes, just chill about Miss6, she was really looking at trees

<Isn't as convinced as I sound>

<Gets warming pancakes from oven>

<Wishes I had a cloth as this plate is really very hot>

<Is swapping hands quickly> Here ya go!

Boy9: 'These are small pancakes?' <As though I have suggested he lick the toilet>

All the big ones got eaten... <Doesn't mention it was Miss6>

Boy9 does not take this well.

But I calm him down. It's been a weekend of sickness and bugs. He is going to be on the edge of burning fury. I am prepared.

He calms. And begrudgingly eats the smalls pancakes.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone so offended at having to eat, small, fluffy pancakes covered in Golden Syrup.

That drama resolved.

I find BabyBoy2 and tell him has to ask to get down the from the table.

BabyBoy2: 'Sorwee Daddy, sorwee...' <Head down, brilliant, heartfelt sorry>

Dude! It's OK... <Gives hair ruffle> Just come back to the table and ask to get down...

BabyBoy2: <Goes back to table> <Starts eating more pancakes>

... <Didn't expect that>

<Sees Miss6 NOT eating> Miss6! EAT!

Miss6: <Starts furious eating>

[Two milliseconds later]

Miss6: <Stops eating>

Eventually.

And amazingly before the end of time itself. All three children have eaten enough pancakes.

BabyBoy2 twice. Top work that boy. Gold star.

Boy9 is fringe on how much he has eaten. But a sneaky banana next to him is soon consumed. Miss6’s full too.

The hatrick.

Right Team! <Smiles weirdly by accident>

Let's all empty the dishwasher together!

<Blank 'but we don't want to' faces all round>

I'll put rocking music on!!!

Boy9: 'F'Off'

No way.

I am not falling for this one. Letting them all go. I've cooked and served. I soothed and I've calmed. I am not being left with all the dishes to do. And there's some to put away. That I washed last night.

NO WAY!

Boy9 you pick a song...

I need Boy9 to buy into this.

The others look up to him, figuratively, speculatively and literally.

If Boy9 engages I've a pretty good chance with Miss6 and BabyBoy2 joining in.

Plus Boy9 likes rock. He picks 'Lukas Graham - Seven Years'.

Swing and a miss.

Great song.

Bad, bad choice for this moment. We need high tempo. Dancey music. I want to fill the room with sound and beats. If I can't boogie my way around the kitchen whilst I put away plates than what is the point.

Also the monkeys are more helpful when they are dancing about with me, putting stuff away.

However. I need Boy9. I reluctantly agree.

But then suddenly, and very suspiciously, Boy9 needs to use the toilet.

Seeing a chance to look doubly-good.

Miss6 brings her plate over...

... Thanks... But we gotta empty this first... <Opens dishwasher>

Miss6: <Mutters> 'Fairy poop'

I rule that Boy9 has missed his window.

Good. As he naffed off when everyone else started clearing plates.

Miss6 should have the next choice. As she did come straight over to help.

BabyBoy2 has arrived to help too.

<Removes all sharps from dishwasher>

(Boy9: Dad? Where does the sword-axe go?

Fifth stud from the right, between the knuckle-smasher…

And your mother’s weekend pike...)

But I am now on guard. And want to check what Miss6 may choose.

Just in case...

Miss6? If theoretically you were given the song choice, what would you go with?

Miss6: 'Trolls soundtrack!'

Oooooo... good choice... But we have already heard that today...

Twice… <Gives look>

I declare father-marshall-law and just pick something myself.

Something appropriate for how much I we all want to bounce around.

Also something I know we will all love. It only takes a few swipes on me phone to find something appropriate: Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - Can't Hold Us (it’s only link I could find that had the album version).

The track is only four minutes and eighteen seconds.

It's not long. And once it is done. Fights will break out.

Miss6 and Boy9 will come to loggerheads again. And again.

BabyBoy2 will have a right hissy fit over his socks.

And at some point I will ban Boy9 until the end of time from using the computer in the morning as he's so grumpy when gets off it. And for making Grannie Amazing wait.

Miss6 will forget she is supposed to be getting dressed for thirty minutes and make us late for school. And I am will be glad to get to work.

And I'm never glad to get to work.

But back... back before the rest of the morning happened.

As the first beat of 'Can't Hold Us' floated out of the speaker. As the opening drums thumped out and filled the air.

I cranked the volume up to twelve and the piano's melody started...

Boy9 appears out of the toilet.

Fist pumping.

I've arms up and I'm bouncing about.

We all are. Miss6 pretends to do the fast rapping. (It's hella cute). BabyBoy2 is fist pumping too. Moving with nought by raw passion.

Boy9's busts some excellent moves as winds his way over to us.

The joy of the music, mine, theirs, spreads and it builds on itself. Envelops us all.

Everyone is singing away. Not the right lyrics for most of us. BabyBoy2 is basically shouting stuff. But who cares!

Plates and cups are flying (safely) out of the dishwasher. And eight hands are making light work of a long job for one.

Whilst boogieing! (real word).

(All three children, and their combined help, represented, fairly I feel, as an octopus called Hank)

Miss6 is passing things to Boy9 that she cannot reach up to do.

Glasses. Mugs for tea. The precious stuff.

BabyBoy2 is carefully and lovingly included by Miss6 and Boy9 who leave things for him to do. Plastics mostly.

Miss6 stops what she is doing to guide him to the right cupboard.

<Replaces china bowl with plastic one in BabyBoy2's hands>

They're so busy I can sneakily siphon the dry washing up on the sink, into what we are all doing, so we do that too!

#WIN!

Miss6 changes to clearing the table and loading.

I didn't even ask. All with a boogie.

She clearly doesn't want this moment with the music to stop. Nor does Boy9, he's helping her.

I stop BabyBoy2 from unloading the dirty plates and explain we are now filling.

He gets it. Ish.

For that song.

We are all dancing and singing away. In our own way. In our own styles.

It's really quite beautiful.

My lovely little loons.

<Wipes away tear>

X