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>
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The First (of probably many) Betrayal...

I had a day off.

It's summer holidays so all three monkeys children are home with me.

And after a shouting and arguing rocky start with Boy10.

It was breakfast time...

Who wants pancakes?

BabyBoy3: 'ME!'

<Throws tiny pancakes>

Miss6: 'MEMEMEMEME!'

<Throws medium sized pancakes>

Boy10: <Silence>

Pancakes dude?

Boy10: <Minimal reluctant nod>

<Throws large sized pancake>

Sorry! My bad!

Boy10: <Peels pancake off face>

Here's another!

<Throws large sized pancake>

(A small pancake I made that went AWESOME!)

(And can do the the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs...)

All three of them fed.

Water nicely offered and watched until consumed. <Shakes fist>

And they were free to leave the breakfast table and off they all departed.

Boy10 to the computer to play his favourite game. As usual Boy10 checks with me before he goes onto the computer. Because that’s the rule.

I spend some time umming and arring because I am pirate wondering how I can say no whilst giving Boy10 something more constructive to do.

But I'm short of ideas today and have some work I want to do in the garden.

So Boy10 is told he has an hour to play then come help me in the garden.

I time him.

Using the oven. Which is the all powerful timing device in our house.

Not our phones. The oven. It's central and easy to set. Bonza.

I set an hour assuming Miss6 will come find me if I miss it and say 'The timers gone off Daddy'.

Love that girl.

BabyBoy3 and Miss6 need no such instruction.

As they are already playing with toys in the kitchen. A beautiful mad mix of fire engine and knights and dolly play. I've no idea what they are doing. But it works for them both.

And they are happy in their mad little worlds.

Which leave me the breakfast bomb site mess.

I remove all the Golden syrup from everything. Load the dishwasher. Pick the larger chunks of pancake off the floor.

Then quietly letting Miss6 and Boy10 know I will be outside.

I escape.

My plan is to build a garden feature.

A ramp. Made of mud. It's better than it sounds.

Imagine a grass covered hill and being able to run up and down it.

That's the mad great plan.

I get thirty minutes of peace.

Before there is a cry for help from Miss6. Can I get her some tape?

I stomp back in, remove muddy shoes, get tape. Check Boy10's timer. Grab some chocolate, for energy. A cuppa. Because tea is awesome. Shoes back on.

And out I go again.

Five minutes later.

Miss6 is stood in front of me. Asking if she can help.

I pass her the spade and sit down.

Of course she can. But I have to think of a job she can do.

It does occur to me she is still in her pyjamas. But I am sure she will be careful.

She is also wearing her best trainers.

But you know... careful.

BabyBoy3 arrives a few minutes later.

Also not dressed fully. He wants to help too. I set them both digging.

Which they love! But are rubbish at.

(Chief mud stomper hard at work)

About an hour goes by and nip back in.

And let Boy10 know his time is up.

And that I expect him to come out and join us.

And a few minutes later....

He does! <Faints>

Blinking at the light of day.

Hand still twitching from wanting to hold a mouse (computer one).

No grumping. No arguing. Outside. I must be doing something right.

He's still in jammies obv. Clearly they are all going to stay in jammies all day.

I’ve passed that phase of the day. I ain’t going back now. Everyone just needs to get over it.

Especially as BabyBoy3 is sat, jumping, laying about in the mud.

Miss6 is also sat in the mud digging away. All pretence of careful gone.

I plan to put a clothes wash on later (which I do do) (ha ha do-do!).

Now Boy10 has actual muscles.

Actual muscles that can help. So I tell him to get a real spade and get cracking. Which he does.

It's great! It's like my own small army of helpers.

DIG! DIG! MY PRETTIES! AHAHAAHAAAAA

And of course everyone loves digging.

I've music playing from my phone and for the next twenty minutes we all have a lovely time.

Digging away.

Then at some point Boy10 drifted off.

Inside. I was busy dealing with Miss6 who has got mud in her eye.

Well BabyBoy3 had thrown mud in her eye. As he got too enthusiastic with his spade. But she is fine. And a brave little soul that can pour water into her own eye.

Miss6 learnt this skill very recently when she broke a glow stick and it went in her eye. And I stood there explaining that no plaster, no cream, no tissue was going to help. Only water in the eye will help. And yes if we went to the docs they would do and say the same.

And whilst I felt a bit mean at the time, she can now rinse her own eye.

And because the glow goo had stung. Miss6 had learnt first hand why you wash out your eye.

Mud cleaned out. Brave trooper.

Back to BabyBoy3 and a quick word about throwing mud.

Don't throw mud!

BabyBoy3: 'Thorry Daddy...' <Sad little face>

<Prompting voice> And…

BabyBoy3: 'Thorry Miss6...' <Gives Miss6 cute as hell hug>

Good boy <Buys him a present>

(<Is shocked> Did you throw all this mud BabyBoy3?...

BabyBoy3: <Little nod>

Heck, I'm not even mad, that's amazing!)

An year hour later.

I realise Boy10 didn’t come back. So I decide I better check on him.

I am not worried about him at all. He's ten, it's summer hols, he can do what he likes. Ish.

He has my trust. He won't be doing anything dangerous. He would ask before doing anything dangerous I am sure. So I don't miss out.

Like I say. He has my trust.

I would just like to know where he is. See if he wants to join us again.

I pop inside.

OW!

Boy10? Dude?

Where are you? Come play?

Duuuuuuuuuu... <Is shocked to silence>

I find Boy10.

Headphones on. Which is why he didn't hear me.

On the computer.

The computer he isn't allowed on unless he asks. Always. Everytime.

On the computer that he was allowed on earlier for a limited time, but is not allowed back on until later.

On the computer.

<Fumes>

He notices me and his reaction speaks volumes.

He jumps a little and whips his headphones off and instantly says he's sorry.

I give him my 'I am seriously chanked-off with you right now, and you've been caught red handed' look. You'll have to imagine it.

I pause before saying anything so I don't just shout at him.

I manage to calmly tell him I am disappointed and not very happy.

He runs.

Up to his room.

Which is a bit annoying as I can't send him to his room now. I suppose I could go get him, bring him down stairs, and then send him to his room.

But seems a bit silly. Really I want him to join us all in the garden. Digging fun.

But as I stand there thinking. I realise I am pretty miffed at him. And hurt.

I’m hurt because I feel betrayed. I trusted him.

I am feeling actual betrayal of my trust.

How very annoying.

BabyBoy3 and Miss6 are now bored of digging.

But that's OK it's seed throwing on the ground time. Something they can both do brilliantly.

But as I do this fun with the little loonies.

My head is still running over the betrayal.

It's bugging me.

I plan lots of harsh punishments for Boy10. I'll delete his saved games. I'll put a password on the computer so he can never use it again. I'll steal his teddy and hold it to ransom. I'll set fire to his bed.

But the little loonies keep me busy for a while. Until they give up on scattering seeds and just ditch the lot in one spot. And then saunter off.

Boy10 keeps a low profile until lunch time.

I'm still a bit annoyed so rather than cook twice to allow for Captain Fussy A.K.A. Boy10.

He can just have the same as us lot. The fussy smegger.

I knows it's childish and a little vindictive. But it makes me feel a million better.

Hungry Boy10 eventually appears. He asks if there is anything else to eat that he might like.

I'm respond honestly. No. As I didn't fancy cooking another meal for you, as you snuck on the computer without asking.

I am not very happy with you.

<Sticks tongue out at Boy10>

Boy10 takes his food.

And to be fair doesn't complain. He even tries the stuff he doesn't like.

He doesn't complain after his movie request for something other than Moana is met with a no. Boy10 clearly knows he is trouble.

And is doing his best to make amends.

(Don’t think you’ll get round me with really, really, tasty

looking chocolate cake… <Licks lips>

Boy10: <Walks away with cake>

LEAVE the cake!...)

Eventually he comes to ask me for something.

Bored of watching Moana for the billionth time. Looking a bit sheepish. I already know what he is going to ask. And frankly I admire his guts.

Can he go on the computer again?

HAAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!! Oh mercy!

<Wipes away tear>

No.

Boy10 looks a little gutted. And is just about to walk off.

When I have an idea...

Tell you what...

How about you earn some time on the computer instead. Redeem yourself?

How's that sound?

Boy10: <Is suspicious, but spots the loop hole I am offering>

I've some jobs you could do. That would be a great help. You could earn time on the computer for each one you do… Deal?

Boy10: 'Deal'

Boy10: <As an afterthought> 'Thank you Daddy'

Yes-yes, I am the nice one... Right. There's plumbs that are rotting that need picking up.

The recycling. Your room makes me want to weep a little. Tidy it…

And there's more digging to do!!! <Is hopeful>

I write him a list of jobs.

Which Boy10 goes through and does well. And he gets to go on the computer later on.

Both of us happy with the situation.

And me? Well I'm very proud of myself for keeping my cool. For NOT handing out crazy punishments in the heat of battle. For handling the situation like the big boy I am.

Mrs. Amazing will be so proud...

[Later]

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Why are they all still in pyjamas?... Caked in mud?’

<Shrugs whilst sat on mud ramp>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Are those Miss6's best trainers?’

Er... <Runs>

Will I ever fully trust Boy10 again, like before?

Probably... I hope so. I am sure I will. I forget lots of stuff.

I may just check on him a bit more often for a little while...

Boy10? Dude?

Where are you? Come play?

Duuuuuuuuuu... <Is shocked to silence>

Are you reading? Freely and without being made too?

<Faints>

Boy10: <Sarcastic and not at all worried about his Dad fainting>'Ha...ha...'

He really was reading.

A comic mind. But actual reading for pleasure.

Magic Parenting days.

<Does high-choir singing to make the moment more magical>

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