Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).
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Showing posts with label half-term. Show all posts
Showing posts with label half-term. Show all posts

13 April 2018

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.
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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>


13 June 2017

Boy9's Death Wish II...

I am not quite sure why boy 9 is trying to get himself killed.
(In a jokey way obv. not actually death, telling off really).
But he was clearly was.

It’s all context this tale.
It’s not what he did. It’s not like when he got blood on the sofa and I swooped in and saved his life from Mrs. Amazing. By using my amazing skill of being able to clean stuff to a reasonable degree.
No, no.
This time what Boy9 did was just something that happens to children a lot.
He broke a toy. It happens.The issue here is when it happened.
When.
<Shakes fist>

Team Parent (yay!) had the busiest of weekends planned.
All day wedding on the Friday.
Next day the wedding breakfast and then BabyBoy3’s birthday BBQ party.
Then a rest day (thank Bacon for that).
And Monday as both the bigs ones had an inset day. We’re off to Legoland (YAY!) 2-for-1 vouchers in hand, to celebrate BabyBoy3’s birthday.
I utterly love Legoland it’s second only to Stripper Disneyland.

(We have to queue to give you money? <Grumbles>)

Team Parents (yay!) plan was so very viable.
Because the Friday was the last day of half term. So theoretically. As long as we let the children rest all of half term week. They would be well rested and unwound by Friday, ready for the busy weekend. Then back to school Tuesday.
See. Very viable and possible.
<Looks wistfully into the distance knowing it was always doomed to failure>

Our spanner in the works.
Was a sick bug. That BabyBoy2 got. Then Miss6. She had a rough day of it to be honest.
I stayed home from work to look after her and watch Disney films all day, and eat sweets and listen to her dry retch all day.
I missed the bug but my tummy rumbled all week. Team Parent (yay!) washed everything the sickies touched, in the hope that Boy9 wouldn’t get it.
As he was the ring bearer for the wedding…

Vico: ’Does anyone have the rings’
Boy9: <Walks up to the front>
Boy9: <Glances at me>
<Gives thumbs up>
Boy9: ‘RARRRRRR!!!! RARRRR!!!! I AM A BEAR!!!’ <Makes himself look big>
Boy9: <Does big paws too> <Then runs off>
<Is proud>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘I am guessing that was your idea... which you thought was hilarious’
<Is crying tears of laughter> I can't breath... Yes!
Mrs. Amazing: <Sighs> ‘Where’s Boy9 run off to?’
The woods just over there…
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Why?’
No idea… <Thinks>
OH! Hang on… I’ll go stop him…
<Runs>

Anyhoo…

Thursday night.
The night before the wedding. I was knackered and had been up since 5:30am as BabyBoy2 and Miss6 are utter, utter smegheads sleep wreckers.
Everyone, EVERYONE was supposed to get an early night. Me included.
As were all going to stay up very late at the wedding dancing.
Until midnight…

[...12th-BONG]
<Turns into pumpkin>
Craaaaaap… Not again!

I threw Miss6 into bed.
Miss6: ‘Ow!’
Mrs. Amazing was on boy bedtime duty (BabyBoy2 and Boy9).
I listened to Miss6 very slowly read a book far too hard for her. Which I was so proud of her for doing. She loves to push herself and learn. But for me it was a bit like having teeth pulled as she struggled with word after word.
Very proud. But in pain.

Afterwards I headed downstairs to bake!
It was my turn to make BabyBoy2’s birthday cake and I guessed I was going to need two chocolate cakes to make his ‘Digger’ cake.
Which may not sound hard. But two cakes takes quite a while, as we’ve only one cake tin.
And that’s a lot concentrating for me.

(Starter, main, and cake for pudding… YUM!)

Anyhoohoo…

The early bedtime plan didn’t go well.
BabyBoy2 took an hour. And his door being held shut until he finally had a big old boo, and then crashed out. Miss6 we thought was asleep till she snuck down for a wee. She was not met with happy faces.
And Boy9 was put to bed as nicely as possible. Early, but with a clear message that he has a big day tomorrow. Please just sleep.
Please.

We saw him again at 8pm.
Team Parent (yay!) hit him with both barrells of frowny faces.
Double beamed him on the stairs as we ate our tea (supper) (not the cups... we drink those).
And back to bed he scarpered.
Hopefully to sleep all night and then lay-in in the morning.
HA!

Mrs. Amazing headed out shopping for booze pre-wedding snacks.
Leaving me happily baking away. Eating cake mix and not once, not twice, but at least nine times being surprised how yuk cocoa powder tastes until you add butter and sugar.
I was just melting what was left of a chocolate bar in the microwave and stirring in butter.
When at 8:30pm Boy9 walked into the room.
Looking very sheepish…

Isn’t that hot...
Oh no... <Looks disappointed at Boy9>
What are you still doing up?...
I am very disappointed!

I was.
I couldn’t believe he was still up. I wasn’t even cross. More shocked and disappointed.
It was lucky Mrs. Amazing wasn’t there. She may have had a few words to say to Boy9 about his still being up.
Normally I would have given Boy9 my own round of words. But I was mid-cooking and wasn’t about to get into to a fight with Boy9.
With cake in the oven…

Boy9: ‘It was an accident’
OMFB! What was?... <Sense of dread rising>
Boy9: ‘I hardly touched it!’
Optimus!<Runs>
<Rubs face and puts down bowl of to be icing>
What on earth has happened? An hour after you were supposed to be fast asleep?

To be fair Boy9 was at least looking sorry.
He knew he been caught. Or at least was very, very close to being in serious trouble.
No YouTube for a month kind of trouble.
I think he was pretty glad it was just me there. I am more of a sucker.
I was busy as well.

Boy9 explained what happened.
His blue stress weird toy he has. Exploded in his room.
And there’s flour everywhere. In his room. Well it looks like flour...
<Swears into hands silently>
I’m basically tempering chocolate at that moment so cannot stop.
I tell Boy9 to go back to bed I’ll be up in a bit.

Which turned out to be a great idea.
As it gave me a chance to cool off. And eat icing.
And it gave Boy9 a chance to reflect on what he had done. And more importantly it gave Boy9 a chance to search his soul and work out what would really make me less mad with him. Boy9 started tidying up his own mess.
Good choice.

Icing made.
I head upstairs to Boy9’s room and find him cleaning the floor with toilet paper.
And there’s 'flour' everywhere. On his bed. Rug. Floor. Books. Clothes…

(It just '''''''magically''''''' exploded)

Boy9: ‘I hardly touched it and it just exploded...’
What with? A sledge hammer?
Boy9: ‘Honest!’
Have you considered a career in politics?
<Gives Boy9 a look…>
Boy9: <Looks away> <Has shifty eyes>

I bought the hoover with me.
Handheld. I use it as quietly as possible so we don’t wake Miss6 and BabyBoy2.
We clean. Boy9 does his best with toilet paper. Which is appreciated.
Boy9 hops back into bed very clearly ready to sleep this time.
I head downstairs with the rug and shake it out And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back in the garden.
I put the rug back in this room and say night.

Boy9: ‘Thanks Dad’ <Hugs me>
Hmmm…
… Don’t worry… I’m sure you’ll break something far worse in the future...
Boy9: ‘Love you!’
Love you too... <Hoovers Boy9’s face for fun>
Night!
<Leaves chuckling>
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