Sleep You Fool! (Breakfast club)...

And there he was.

Dressed and totally ready for school.

Hair brushed. Teeth clean. Bag packed.

Smile on his mush, but with a clear 'come on' expression in his eyes.

Boy9 was ready to go.

It was only 6:30am...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Morning Darling' <Gets hug>

<Tries to say 'Morning dude!'> <Grunts>

Mrs. Amazing: 'You're up early?'

<Quiet, and unintelligible swearing into pillow>

Mrs. Amazing: 'And you're dressed?'

<Sit up, tries to speak, gives up, goes back to sleep>

Boy9: 'Let's get going!'

Zzzzzz <Is chased by giant clock in school uniform in dream>

Breakfast club.

And no that awesome movie with Molly Ringythingy-bob and Emilio Estevez, and that guy with the dark hair that really rebelled. God I wanted to be him.

I still love fingerless gloves and I am pretty sure it’s due to him.

I would have given anything to be him. Not with the Dad issues obv. But to look that cool and be that cool. It's amazing how life can really, really, fail to deliver on your dreams sometimes.

It's cool though. <Weeps>

Without that movie most of my life may have been very different.

Must watch it again...

(In left to right order of who I wished I was…

I’m far right… <Sighs>)

Anyhoo...

Not that movie.

As awesome as it is. This tale isn't about that. We were talking about Boy9.

Ready for school at 6:30am. The ‘Grumping Hour’ (mine).

He’s ready a whopping two hours early because he hates us.

Ready because he wanted to get to breakfast club that Team Parent (yay!) reluctantly have to use.

Reluctantly because it's just another expense. Another bill to add to the list. More child care with people we don't really know. Which is all fine. And has to be.

But annoying when you spend all your time earning money so you can pay someone else to look your kids.

That's the bit I like doing. Playing. Being responsible.

Although I call it playing.

On that morning Team Parent (yay!) have to use child care.

Mrs. Amazing has to leave early in the morning, something about adjusting the stars in the sky so that the universe is safe again. Saving the Galaxy level stuff.

And me? Well Mrs. Amazing takes the one and only car (travelling to the stars and back, requires some kind of propulsion). And although the twenty minute walk to Boy's school is definitely possible, for both of us. We're in the UK.

Weather is always an issue...

Boy9: 'It's raining!' <Utter disgust>

Naaa... <Wipes face of water>

Boy9: 'It's REALLY raining!'

Who said that? <Peers through the storm> Oh! Boy9!

It'll be gone in a bit! <Hopes voice carries over the thunder booming all around>

Boy9: 'You're nuts!'

Here... <Puts hat on Boy9> That'll help...

<Cat swims by doing backstroke>

Boy9: <Gives me a filthy look>

Fine... We'll wake for a break in this driz... <Is swept away by rain river>

... <Voice fading> Don't play with my Millennium Falcon...<Almost gone> Ever!!!

It's never a good idea to bet on the weather in the UK.

Good to prepare against it. Good to ignore it and just have the BBQ with a brolly. All good stuff. But bad to bet against it. Even mid-summer me and Boy9 walking to school will eventually end up with a very, very wet Boy9 arriving at school. Ha ha.

Soaked to the bone and with wet books.

Not really a great option.

Plus. And I hadn't forgotten this really (I just wanted to do the storm sketch).

I have BabyBoy2 and Miss6 to get to school as well.

Obv. in the other direction as who would send their children to the same schools. Where's the challenge in that? Far better to divide them across town and make each and every morning a logistical challenge. Much more exciting.

Daily.

<Grumbles off> Damn lack of teleporters....

(Spock: ‘Jim… The firefly problem is far worse than we thought…’)

So really it's breakfast club.

I cannot drop Miss6 at school and simultaneously drop Boy9 at his school. Even with car. Even with a hoover car. And hoover car's rock!

Breakfast club solves that problem. Not freely sadly. But it does.

Mrs. Amazing drops Boy9 at breakfast club on her way to her planetary exit ramp.

And I jog / run / scoot Miss6 and BabyBoy2 to school and nursery.

(Which I love).

But something has changed for Boy9.

Something about breakfast club has changed. Because before he didn't really like going to breakfast club. He said it was boring and none of his mates went.

Which did make it harder to send him, and pay for it. Neither of Team Parent (yay!) want to send Boy9 somewhere he doesn't have fun. But...

Team Parent (yay!) were stuck so he had to go.

However.

A while back the people that ran the breakfast club in the school.

Well the old lot were turfed out...

School Enforcer: 'And take your tiny milks with you!!!' <Shakes fist>

Old Breakfast Club Owner: 'You just wait! They'll miss us!

Old Breakfast Club Owner: 'The kids will be begging for us to come back'

School Enforcer: 'The new lot have Lego and a Foosball table!’

Old Breakfast Club Owner: 'Oh...’

Old Breakfast Club Owner: 'Well… it was nice to have met you. Bye'

Still a change is a risk for a School.

New people. Always a risk. They could loonies that hide it well in interviews.

They could be fans of Bieber.

They could teach everyone the recorder.

They could be evil alien overlords from another planet.

Bet that's never tested for. And frankly it's a real concern.

Recorder playing Beiber fans... <Shudders>

However once Team Parent (yay!) managed to get up.

Stagger downstairs. Retrieve BabyBoy2. Give Miss6 a good listening to. Down a cuppa or ten two.

We spoke to Boy9 about why when normally getting him anywhere is a pitched, scream-a-thon, of lateness, battle.

Why so keen green bean now?

Boy9: 'They've got really cool toys'

<Team Parent (yay!) exchange looks>

Boy9: 'Foosball…'

<Are still not understanding>

Boy9: '… and Lego...'

<Both together ‘Ahhhh’>

Wow! What a difference a few toys can make.

Mainly Lego to be fair. Same building. Same friends. Same basic idea. Somewhere to play and have a breakfast whilst kids wait for school to open. But a few new toysand Boy9 is totally sold on it now.

Good news.

However.

Boy9 was not best pleased at how long it took us to get ready that morning. He expected us to magic out of bed and leave almost instantly. He didn’t really understand why it took us two hours to get ready. The normal amount of time we take.

Boy9 got pretty cross with us. I laughed.

So Team Parent (yay!) sat Boy9 down and explained two little things to him...

1. We're glad you like breakfast club now and are enjoying it. We would rather not have to send you, we would prefer to look after you ourselves. But we have to. If things change and we can look after you ourselves. That's what will happen.

Yay they've Lego.

<High fives>

2. We ain't leaving for breakfast club at 6:30am. Even if they are open.

Run Sleep you fool!

<Shakes fist>

('Maow you fools'

Fools: 'Er... What?'

Gandolf: 'What the cat said'

Fools: '...')

X

A Week? A Whole Week?...

As we stand there waving Boy9 off on his trip.

Mrs. Amazing is fighting back some tears. It's hard letting go.

And Boy9 will be gone a whole week.

BabyBoy2 is waving too.

Shouting Boy9's name in his little voice. Cute. Miss6 is waving too.

She's a bit grumpy, which Team Parent (yay!) secretly think is because she is going to miss Boy9, but we say nothing. And just ignore her grumps. Even when she hid, badly, in a bush.

BabyBoy2 and Miss6 are dressed in their pajamas as it's 7am. BabyBoy2 in very cool Spider-man hoodie. Wish I had one.

Miss6 in bright pink. Hence the poor hiding in greenness.

The school coach finally pulls off and Boy9 is gone.

For a week.

<Runs about cheering>

Which I am totally fine with.

I've no tears to pretend are not really there (I've some grammar to look at, but tears no). It's far too early in the morning for what you humans would call emotions.

But I do mention to Mrs. Amazing what will get me later. It will be this evening as we tame the little lions into bed. Again convincing them to sleep. As I walk past Boy9's room and he's not in there. Picking his nose or something equally gross.

It will be those moments I'll think most of him and miss him.

Each night this week.

It was an early start to the morning.

More so. The coach left at 7am. So we had to be at the school at 6:30am. Which meant setting an alarm for the first time in years.

If you've young kids than alarm clocks just seem silly.

Our actual alarm is covered in dust in the loft and has been there for years. For a while it sat optimistically near my side of the bed. Waiting to be plugged in again.

But it never happened. As we have three alarm clocks that still refuse to accept 6:30am is wake up time.

Even the incredible cot-escaping BabyBoy2 has joined in on the 'let's wake the exhausted parents' act. yay. Boy9 still being the main morning-too-early culprit.

He had even set his own alarm. In case he slept in.

No chance.

We set the alarm for 5:45am...

You're setting it for when?

Mrs. Amazing: '5:45am'

But that's still night time... and I've nine years of sleep to catch on...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Me too...' <Looks sad>

Mrs. Amazing: 'We'll be able to have two cuppas before we leave'

<Grumbles> Suppose... mines a very large one...

(What the hell is that in the sky??? <Is panicking>

And where’s the <yawns> sun gone?

<Just goes back to sleep>)

Boy9 was really excited.

And nervous. And looking forward to it. And worried about the unknown.

There was a huge mix of emotions rattling through that little boy. Good stuff I suppose.

He's suddenly so grown up and off doing stuff on his own. But then he's really small and not even ten yet. It's a funny time. Weird funny.

He's being pulled in lots of directions at once. Be good. Be bad. Fit in with the lads. Don't do what those lads are doing. Do what Team Parent (yay!) say. Really. What we say. Oh right... Fair point. Now, with that new information, do what we say. Oh go on! Please?

<Offers chocolate>

Boy9's internal conflict doesn't always seep out in the most constructive ways either (it never, ever, ever, does). (With the possible exception of light sabre battles).

Like the morning before...

[Finds Boy9 watching tele, NOT sitting down for breakfast, hasn't even said morning]

Dude! It's breakfast. I've made you breakfast? Big breakfast for big boy going away tomorrow?

You want breakfast? Breakfast?

Breakfast?

Boy9: 'Shut your face'

Hey hey... Don't be rude <Holds it together>

Now please turn the tele off and come in and have some breakfast...

I've asked twice al...

Boy9: 'Shut UP!'

<Eye twitches> ... please... for breakfast and your own safety ... come sit down...

<Turns off tele for him> <Is internally ablaze with fury> <But hides it well>

Come on, what track shall we list...

Boy9: 'OH! Shut your face'

<Cracks> GO TO YOUR ROOM!

Boy9: 'Good!' <Stomps off>

<Spends some time air decking certain people>

Not my best moment.

Especially as the night before Team Parent (yay!) had discussed this very situation.

About how Boy9 would be full of nervous / excited energy. And how we both needed to be super-tolerant and understanding with Boy9.

Especially me.

Why especially me?

Brainzilla: 'You know...'

I don't… <Lies>

Brainzilla: <Shows ream after of ream of utterly convincing footage of why 'I' should especially keep my cool>

...

You suck Fair enough, all good points suck-face...

As Boy9 would spoiling for a fight.

Pretty much he would be looking for any release he could find. Either through laughing and love. Ahhhhh.

Or as a big old angry fight with me any of Team Parent (yay!).

In my defence it was early morning. I was only one cuppa down. And the two little ones had already bugged quite a fair bit, by not making sense. And my favourite song was playing, which I was missing.

At least that was my only slip. And no matter the provocation til Boy9 left on the trip.

I kept my cool.

<Gives self gold star>

Boy9: 'Dad! Watch... Your Millennium Falcon, a hammer, smashy smashy!'

...

<Buries head in sofa>

Boy9: 'Bongo time!'

<Muffled> Mot? OW!

(NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! <Weeps>)

It's going to be different without Boy9.

Very different. Bed times will be nearly an hour shorter.

Team Parent (yay!) won't be out numbered and that really, really, really, makes a difference.

I won't have to make his boring, always, ham, no matter what I sneak into his sandwiches, he just picks it out, lunch for a week.

The effect on the laundry will minimal however as Boy9 insists on being very economic with clothes. Except his football stuff. That Boy9 likes to wear as quickly and as often as possible. And then get muddy. Really muddy.

My stress levels I imagine will be lower as I'll spend less time arguing with a tiny version of myself.

Meal times will be less of a verbal, and attritional, battle. We can have rice and pasta.

We could even have sauces on the food! #LivingTheDream

There'll be less rushing Boy9 back and forth to clubs morning and night.

It will be a nice break for Team Parent (yay!) to be honest.

But don't get me wrong.

If I'm looking kind of dazzled. I see neon lights...

We're gonna miss the little smegger Boy9 a lot.

All of us....

Miss6: <Shakes head>

You will...

Miss6: <Goes into Boy9's room and starts playing with his toys>

Miss6: <Has great fun>

...

<Joins Miss6>

<Has great fun>

I'm sure I will miss him.

In a few days. Once the novelty of not being ninja attacked from behind every door has worn off. Once the quiet gets boring. And there's no one to physically drag away from the computers. He is my little dude. We are buds.

Most of the time.

Boy9 has a huge presence in the house and whatever effect that has on us all, there is going to be a big presence missing whilst he is away.

<Wipes away tear Cleans up after lacrimation>

The night before Boy9 left.

I found something that really hammered home to me just how big Boy9 actually is.

That despite how big Boy9 acts, and of course is trying to be, like his Dad.

Underneath all the shouty and posturing, and swaggering, and rudeness, and fun (there's loads of fun), and funny. There's just a nine year old boy.

Hell the cats older than him (and he's an idiot) (the cat that is).

Nine isn't much at all, really.

And he's off on his own, without any of Team Parent (yay!), for seven whole days.

What on earth were we thinking???

I know he'll be fine.

There's teachers I trust with him there. Lots of safety, and health. The lot.

I’m not worried. I am happy he is going.

Honest.

(You have my complete trust…

See you at the gig…

<Does rock hand>)

On the radiator the night before he left.

(Yes I’m still talking about that bit). I noticed something drying. Waiting to be packed.

Boy9's teddy. Freshly washed and stitched up by Mrs. Amazing.

Bless. (for reference there's nothing wrong with having a teddy. I've four hundred one. And I’m utterly normalatoning).

But it reminded me of just how little he still was. Is.

I imagine when he eventually falls asleep each night. Boy9 might hugging his teddy tight.

And he might, might even think of us. At home. Waiting for him.

<Shakes fist> He better!

It's gonna be a long week.

<Grumbles> Stupid awesome-school-trip-for-a-week...

X