"Det It Dough!"... A Frozen Legacy

"Det It Dough!"

Or if you don’t speak BabyBoy1… "Let It Go!" He’s so cute and fluffy.

Frozen was a huge part of our lives for ages.

We watched the film, sang the song, over and over and over and over until our ears and eyes bleed ice. We were required to watch the film so much that magically every now and then, the DVD just disappeared! Or the TV had days where it just wouldn't work at all with that one film. Gutted.

Our programs were fine obv. Frozen though. Naaa. Not working.

Heh heh.

We ran up and down the corridors with capes a flying and me and Miss4 found something we could and bond over. Capes.

And in one of my rare wisey moments (I have them) I knew (they are useless) that there would be some kind of legacy from the film Frozen. (Told you, useless wiseyness).

When a film permeates (wiggles) into your life as much as Frozen did for us.

It stays and becomes part of the family history.

Like Boy8 was with the film Cars.

Bacon and cheese did we love that film. We must have watched Cars a millions times together. We had a lot of the Cars toys and ker-chow is firmly, and will always be, in our family lexicon (bag of words).

KER-CHOW! Legacy!

Cars really defined a couple of years in Boy8's (then Boy4) life. He was just so utterly, utterly cute then and we would sit and play cars and watch Cars all day long.

There's a point in the film where Mater (as in To’mater) asks Lightning (McQueen) if they are buds.

Boy8 did that to me.

<Heart melts at memory>

That was when we first declared our bud status.

We obviously made it formal once I had a lawyer draft a short, four thousand page, agreement, which he has totally ignored ever since. I never thought those days would end.

<Wipes away nostalgic tear>

<Continues repairing the gate Boy8 tore off the wall last week in a strop>

(These guys practically raised me Boy8…)

Then in 2013 Frozen appeared.

That was the first film Miss5 fell utterly in love with it. So did I.

That was three years ago, and although Miss5 still loves it, she doesn't watch Frozen every day, like she used to. Other films get a look in now.

We are all very glad about that.

You can always tell when parents have seen a film too much.

They start picking holes. Starting tearing down the walls of innocence in the movie.

You know get all adult about stuff.

We’ve (me) wondered about the sexual preferences of the sauna owner many times. Despite it being a children's film.

We've (me) wondered how a nice princess like Anna could go around asking strange men to take them strange places.

We’ve (me) wondered about the Star Wars style plot killer (Oh just shoot the escape pod, what the hell, it's not as though one laser blast will change anything, it will blow up the droids and plans will go nowhere, shoot man SHOOOT!!!!) start to the entire story.

Had the king just been a bit more cool about it all, and less idiotic... Well...

My alternative start to Frozen...

The King (Elsa’s Dad): 'Huh! Elsa! You seem to have ice making powers!’

Elsa: <Crapping herself> ‘Yeeees…’

The King: 'Cool’

The King: 'Let's get you trained up with those powers, make sure nothing bad happens’

Elsa: ‘Shouldn't I hide them away, deny them, a part of me, thereby forcing everyone to live a lie, and alienating us all?’

The King: 'Don't be a twat fool. Secrets are always bad. What do you think this is? A plot device?’ <Chuckles>

The King: 'We'll tell everyone all about it, it'll be cool... '

The King: 'I'M THE FRIKKIN KING!’ <Does big arms>

Elsa: ‘OK... So we don't have to alter Anna's childhood memories then?’

The King: 'CRAP NO! What is up with you?’ <Gives Elsa a look>

The King: 'Why would anyone think that was a viable option? We’re not MiB?’

The King: 'Can you imagine what damage that may do to your sister-sister relationship?’

Elsa: 'Can we at least get the advice of the trolls? Before we rush into anything?'

The King: 'Hmmm... ‘ <Thinks> ‘no they suck rocks'

Elsa: ‘OK. I'm off out...‘

The King: 'With that boy?’

Elsa: ‘Yes... he's promised to take me up the north mountain…’

The King: <Chokes on beer cup of tea> 'Did he?'

Elsa: ‘So... when's your boat trip?'

The King: 'Not going... Bloody hate the sea, dangerous. Bollocks to it, me and Queenie are staying at home and chilling instead'

But if the love for the movie has faded a bit.

The music is still very much present in our lives. Which is my fault, as I've got it on my phone. And I play it for Miss5 on demand much to Mrs. Amazing’s disgust.

It can be a good way to convince Miss5 to eat her food.

Sometimes.

Miss5 has her own (no one can join in) dance routine worked out.

It has become more complex over time. There's a lot of pointing and freezing stuff. A stamp on the floor in time with the music. Dropping the cape at the right moment is still very important.

I still run about with my arms up being very dramatic, doing a mix of Dragon Ball Z, Kung Fu poses and disco moves.

I look like fool rock it.

And this tale would end there. Done.

<Dusts off hands>

Except…

Someone new fallen in love with Frozen.

Someone that hasn't even seen the film all the way through.

And no, not the Cat, or the actually very much dead fish, that played possum for so long no one believed he was actually dead. And no, not the smegging hamster either.

It’s BabyBoy1.

He asks me to play ‘Let It Go’ on my phone. It's the only song he knows the name of.

How on earth could I refuse?

BabyBoy1: 'Det It Dough? Det It Dough?'

<Shakes head>

'Det It Dough? Det It Dough? Deeeeaze?’

<Cracks like Miss5 keeping a secret> Oh alright matey!

<Does his fist pumping and starts running about>

I’ll get the capes…

<Pretends to be reluctant, but is already wearing own cape>

(TELL ME WHERE THE CHOCOLATE IS!!!

TALK MOO FACE PRINCESS!)

Which means we have a new member to our Frozen sing-dance moments.

Miss5 and me, and now BabyBoy1! Yay!

Last time we listened to 'Let It Go' ten times in a row. It’s 3:45 minutes long… That’s half an hour of singing and dancing, I was knackered.

When Miss5 tired of listening, BabyBoy1 took over the asking. When he got distracted Miss5 came back with renewed vigour.

We obviously dressup.

Miss5 dons a blue cape and Elsa wig. Her standard Frozen gear. I was in pirate bandana (which is another, pirate related, tale) and purple cape (a reluctant Anna).

And so he could join in, I stuffed a small red cape down BabyBoy1 jammies collar.

But The cape confused him. He didn't get it.

Until...

Like my father did before me, and his father before him, probably, I put on my purple Anna cape and showed BabyBoy1 what running from one end of the room to the other, with a cape was all about. Presence, speed and flare, and not crashing into the wall.

Nothing, I repeat nothing, removes your cape worries more than watching a grown man, especially your Dad, running at full pace, arms up to the sky, from one side of the room to the other, singing at the top of his lungs.

I do admit I felt very a little silly running about with my purple cape flowing behind me, arms out, singing away at the top of my lungs, with people walking by, looking in the window, filming, taking pictures, making sketches.

So I shut the curtains. Problem solved! Hooray!

<Runs about singing like an unwatched champion>

(He’s got his Dad’s moves...)

It was a good move.

We had such a good time the three of us. BabyBoy1 loved that time with me so much he's been all about the Daddy love ever since. Which is awesome.

And on a par with that, maybe better, I think I might have even managed to get onto Miss5's favourites list (my P.B.).

I now rank just below non-shiny stickers.

#Winning

Car Attack...

I have a cold. Well had.

I have the sniffles, it's not the same. And no it's not man-flu either. It's just a cold.

Which will pass with rest and warmth and whiskey. 

But whilst it hangs about, it will make me more grumpy, more snotty and extra tired.

Bonza.

But the worst part of it all, the absolute bum in the ointment, is that I am poorly just in time for the weekend. Why can't I be ill during work time? Monday is ill day. Monday...

<Shakes fist at sky>

<Bird poo falls on head>

Friday evening I got back from work feeling ropey. Threw a child or two into bed, ate something spicy and good (lovely noodle soup, thanks Mrs. Amazing), and did as many house jobs as I could before I headed to bed with snot pouring out of me. My head decidedly banging and my brain in power save mode.

'Do you want a cuppa'?

Urgh

'Was that a yes?'

Urgh

'Hmmm this isn't working...'

'How about, you hit yourself in the face for yes, chest for no...'

<Indicates yes>

OWWWWW!!!

'That looked painful, are you OK?'

Urgh

'Hmmm...'

I was even refusing some cups of tea. The madness.

(I'll just have a half cup then…)

Mrs. Amazing let me sleep all night. Children may have come and gone through out the night, I do not know. I was left to sleep.
However I bet they did come in during the night as both Boy8 and Miss4 are knackered.

And like all children exhausted children they are refusing to sleep through the night, go to bed early, or lay in even a little bit. The swines Bless 'em.

Children can be right idiots constantly sometimes.

Go to sleep, you're very tired

'NO!!!'

'I AM NOT <Yawns> Tiree... <Yawns> tir...'

<More yawns>

<Has to lean against wall as so tired>

'I AM NOT TIRED'
<Picks up sleeping child and places them into bed>

BabyBoy1 however cares not about anyone being tired or ill. 

BabyBoy1 operates purely on a need basis. I need food, feed me. I need sleep, Zzz. It's morning, someone play with me. etc... It's all me, me, with him. Wise lad.

Annoyingly though at 6:00 am on Saturday morning, BabyBoy1 woke up.

Normally he just sings to himself in his room and is very happy until we drag ourselves out of bed. But not so this morning. This morning BabyBoy1 awoke cross and unhappy and wanted to share his message with the world at top volume.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH' (* 'I would like someone to share my woes with')

'He's gonna wake up the ratbags others'

<One eye lid flickers, once, in recognition>

'I'll get him shall I?'

Please do

Bring back tea

The crying stops and I am about to resume my cold infested sleep. When Mrs. Amazing bundles a very cute, but wide awake, BabyBoy1 into our bed. Brilliant! Both Mum and Dad in the big bed! Yayyyyyy!

BabyBoy1 bundles on top of Mrs. Amazing and tries to lay on her face. It's hard not to laugh. We try not to laugh too much. But BabyBoy1 is so happy to be awake, and alive, and full of life.

It's hard not to smile.

Team Parents (yay!) are not so full of life.

One half of Team Parents has so much snot and gunk in his nose and throat he cannot talk and his eyes seem to be lined with lead. Gestures at this time of the morning are my own means of communication. But even I manage a smile at the happy little boy bouncing about on the bed.

Mrs. Amazing is very tired too, and tries to go back to sleep, but is finding BabyBoy1's hugs, face licks, and bundles hard to ignore. Plus she keeps giggling.

I am just drifting off again when it's my turn to be bundled by BabyBoy1.

He lies on my face, a move I am sure the cat taught him. I pick him up and he giggles.

How can anyone be this cute? at 6 am? Almost everyone else is bloody annoying. He's magic!

Meanwhile the snot and gunk in my throat is really making breathing hard and my body does what it needs to. I cough and splutter and clear the channels. I feels loads better. But it has woken me, utterly, up. Damn.

(Toned down and nice-d up...)

I could try to go back to sleep. But it seems pointless and Miss4 and Boy8 are due in in (!) thirty minutes. They are nothing if not punctual in their early waking of us.

So like a man diving on a grenade (literally), a captain going down on his ship, a chocolate cow knocking at my front door, I grab the happy and wide awake BabyBoy1 and head downstairs. Leaving the delighted Mrs. Amazing in bed asleep.

I do this because I love her, because I want to show her how much she means to me, because I want to show her much her well being and mental state is important to me. Yeah I know. Sweet.

And because it's Mrs. Amazing's day for a lie in anyway.

Me and BabyBoy1 have to pass Miss4's and Boy8's room on the way. We need to be utterly silent.It takes nothing to wake them.

Ninja mode engaged. 
I have become one with the corridor and it's squeaks and creaks. No one would, could, or will hear me move. I navigate the corridor of noise and surprise without a single noise. Ah yeah!

But, as I said before BabyBoy1 doesn't give a crap about anyone else sleeping and starts singing to himself. Loudly

He utterly ruins my ninja groove and shushing him doesn't work either. He just tries to eat my finger.

Still we manage to make it downstairs without either of the children grumps waking up.

After a long, heated, discussion me and BabyBoy1 choose the box of cars to play with. I wanted to play trains. I make myself a cuppa to aid the morning pain and go to plonk myself down on the floor, ready to play. When BabyBoy1 gestures at the microwave...

'UhUhUhUhUh' (* Where's my milk? You forgot my milk? WTBiscuit?)

<Frowns at me>

'Uhhhh Uhhhhh' (* You have your tea, where the smeg is my milk?)

I explain that no milk shall pass his lips until 6:30 am. Normal wake up time. I am not about to adjust his tummy clock to go off thirty minutes early. That would be madness.

BabyBoy1 handles it well. He appears OK with the milk refusal and comes over to play cars.

He leans over the big car box and starts sifting through the cars. I am quite amazed about how picky and choosy he is being. Normally just grabs the first one and starts to play. It's as though he is looking for one particular car. The right size and shape, to match his requirements. Not that one, not that... he is head first in the box searching as fast as he can. Then finally finds what he wants.

A big, red, metal car and he looks right at me.

I don't understand what is going and am utterly intrigued...

Dude! Why's that car so special?

Is it the fastest?

Is it the strongest?

Is it the reddest?

BabyBoy1 why that car?

(Car on the right: small and plastic doesn't hurt… Car on the left metal, painful and cooler)

Happy he has my full attention. BabyBoy1 throws the car right at me and it hits me in the face. 

I am still half asleep, with cold, and wasn't expecting a car attack from one so young.

Owwww! What was that for? 

I'm telling Mrs. Amazing

But before I can work out what made BabyBoy1 feel he needed to pick a car, and then luzz it at me. I am distracted by Miss4 entering the kitchen.

She managed to stay in bed a whole five minutes extra thanks to BabyBoy1's non-ninja skills. Boy8 is right behind her. Oh bravo my tiny ninja of noise.

Ah well.

We all play and have lots of fun with the cars and I manage to shove breakfast into all three of them before Mrs. Amazing awakes from her slumber.

It isn't until later, when I have a moment to think about it, that I realise why BabyBoy1 threw that car at me. It's quite obvious really, if I put myself in his tiny shoes. 

I am not at my smiliest first thing in the morning, and if someone (a brave, but foolhardy soul) told me I had to wait for my cup of tea… ooooo can you imagine the mess? Salt water everywhere.

No wonder I got car-ed, I made BabyBoy1 wait for his milk.
I'm lucky I walked away...
#SecretlyProud