And... Half Term Wind Down... And All Sick... yay.

Half term again.

And it's very much needed for all. They all are.

Tempers are frayed. Stress levels are high.

And everyone is either sick, or about to get sick...

Mrs. Amazing: 'You OK?'

Yeah not bad <Is eating chocolate>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Oh good, the kids have caught something and I bet one of us will get it soon...'

Nope! ALL FINE <Coughs>

.. Well... Except for this sore throat I have...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Sore throat?' <Presses quarantine button>

[KLAXON SOUNDS]

[Quarantine walls drop and imprison me]

HEY LET ME OUT!

Mrs. Amazing: 'Stay away sick boy!'

<Cannot reach the chocolate cupboard>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Sorry... sound proof!'

Mrs. Amazing: <Helps self to chocolate>

<Muffled>NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Team Parent (yay!) have been blindsided by our childcare requirements.

As in we haven't planned it. A quick 9pm meeting is called and quick decisions are made.

Who has the most holiday left? Who can take a day off and be with the three terrors cherubs.

What are your parents and my parents doing? Basically everyday of the holidays?

Then with these details guessed at, we rapidly assign days with Boy10, Miss6 and BabyBoy3.

Or split them up and farm off to friends and well wishers and that lady Tina I met down the the pub last week, who seemed nice, and frankly if she can care for the all the cats she claims she has, the kids will be fine.

BabyBoy3 still heads off to Nursery, half term or not. We pay, so he goes.

Which makes the allocation a bit easier. As the list of 'approved' and 'would be happy to do it' carers definitely shrinks when you point out there is bottom wiping involved.

And, as it's termed, accidents.

(When are we next free?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Hang on’ <Checks>

…

Mrs. Amazing: ‘3015, a Friday… and only for seven minutes…’

Oh… <Is sad>)

Mrs. Amazing: 'So who is left on the list?'

Your mum, my mum, me and you

Mrs. Amazing: 'All busy'

Pants... I could take a day off?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Your holiday is low. Could you call in sick?'

<Is shocked> You mean lie?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Yes'

Sure If I have to, but know that I am against this totally and am only doing this under duress... Hang on!... I've work outing that night?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Hmmmm... that would look pretty bad...'

Hmmm...

I KNOW! I could grow a moustache and then no one would know it's me!

Mrs. Amazing: <Sighs>

And a hat... a BIIIIG hat... tights... shades... have we got any wigs?

Mrs. Amazing: '<Just walks away>

[Later]

My plan...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Yup?'

Well it was dumb... wasn't it...

Mrs. Amazing: 'You're so pretty'

Do you really think I'm pretty? Thanks! <Walks off chuffed>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Muppet. I'll take a day off then...' <More sighing>

The last day of term.

They all got a small treat from the shops. As is Mrs. Amazing's tradition.

BabyBoy3 is very excited to show me when I get home. Miss6 has lots to tell me about her toy. And I am pretty sure Boy10 was gloating about what he got.

It was hella cool to be fair.

School bags are left where they fall. School shoes are discarded in weird and wonderful places around the house. I am sure they must remove one, hop about a lot, and then go take off the other. The bath time requirement is revoked and everyone gets to stay up a little late.

Bonza.

Mrs. Amazing: 'Are you coming to bed?

No way. It's half term! <Is chugging>

Mrs. Amazing: 'You still have to go to work you know...'

<Chugs harder>

And then saturday lumbered into view.

Did a little dance, before plopping down in front of us all and giving us all a big hug.

And the stresses and hardships of the term and their effects could be seen.

In each of my spawn.

(Not one of my Spawn... unfortunately…)

Boy10 is wound up.

Like a really tightly wound up thingy. That is championing all things wound up and has really taken it's aim and direction in life to be the most wound up to heart.

Talking to him is a bit like being shouted at whilst being asked for your company. And you have to duck Nerf bullets a lot.

Which is fine. Except Miss6 and BabyBoy3 are getting some of his unwinding thrown at them.

Which is not fine. Nofine (great word).

That morning Boy10 lasts a little under thirty minutes before he is sent back to his room.

Which isn't a great resolution for a problem I know. But it's only 7am and my brain noey workey dat early. He refuses. And I've nothing else.

But he gets the message that Miss6 and BabyBoy3 are not there for him to be mean to.

I knew he would be like this.

Of which I am proud of me. That I worked it out on my own and didn't need Mrs. Amazing to remind me. +5 Dad Points

I just have to be calm and patient with him. He wants a fight. And I must NOT give him one. Unless we are actually fighting (for fun).

And... Mrs. Amazing did have to remind me that it was half term. Which I knew. But somehow had failed to connect the dots in my head.

Meh.

Boy10 also refuses to any homework.

Which is a bit annoying. As it would be good to get it done and out of the way. But I can't fight that fight on his first day off.

I've no heart for it.

Boy10 just needs to chill for a bit. Not in front of the computer as that doesn't help. A bit tele wouldn't hurt.

But really he needs to be outside chasing and breaking (probably) things.

Miss6 works hard at school.

Really hard. And when she finally gets a break, she does a classic Miss6.

She had moaned of a bad tummy. And headache. But she moans of that most nights when she doesn't want to go to bed.

So it's fair enough that Mrs. Amazing ignored her and off school-shoe shopping they went.

Apparently. Mid trying on shoes Miss6 proved, rather visually, that she was actually feeling proper sick.

And puked in Clark's mid trying on shoes.

The staff were very understanding I hear. And Mrs. Amazing was as per her name.

Cleaning it up. Grabbing another mother, with a baby, and 'borrowing' some wet wipes.

Then running the bundle of loveliness out to the bin.

Before returning and encouraging the staff to please try the other foot as well, as there's no way they are coming all this way.

And not coming back with shoes.

And then even better. Damn she's impressive sometimes.

Mrs. Amazing asked if they could please try on some pumps / plimsolls / daps (??) as well. Whilst they were there. Which they got too.

Haha. Now that is hardcore parenting.

<Boughs Bows>

And BabyBoy3.

Poor little BabyBoy3 with a bad cough and unable to sleep through a night all week.

And his loving and kind, but hella tired out parents.

Well he suddenly got a red ear...

(Which if you don't know if the universal sign for 'Child is hella poorly', and they need resting and 4hrs Disney STAT!)

(Well that’s me busy for the next year…

<Puts on M.Mouse ears>

<Feels cool>)

Mrs. Amazing: 'Oh no! Red ear!' <Presses quarantine button>

[KLAXON SOUNDS]

[Quarantine walls drop and imprisons me]

HEY! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL??? I'M NOT SICK!

Mrs. Amazing: 'No... But BabyBoy3 needs your spot on the sofa...'

Mrs. Amazing: 'And some chocolate...'

<Muffled>NOOOOOOOOO!!!! <Collapses dramatically>

<Hurts knee> <Doesn't cry>

Happy half term unless you work through it all, like me. So really just happy watching your kids having time off without you. yay.

<Weeps at desk>

X

Easter Rainbow Fountains...

Not sure why.

But Easter season in our house is puke season.

It's not over indulgent chocolate related either.

It just seems that whatever germs are about floating about Easter-ish our little charges get them all.

And then yip.

Oooooo <Rubs tummy in a give me sympathy way>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Bad tummy?'

Yeah... <Sad puppy Strong but suffering face>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Have you got what the kids have?'

Yeah probably... <Fights back tears>

Mrs. Amazing: '... er... you... er...'

Mrs. Amazing: '... you haven't just eaten lots of chocolate and now feel sick?'

...

Define lots?

Mrs. Amazing: 'The amount I eat in one sitting, times ten'

Then yes... <Sees all sympathy leaving>

<Rubs own tummy>

All the kids.

All four thousand three of them. Have been sick of late. Vomed. Yakked. Chucked up. Had an emergency food escape. Been to puke town. Greened.

Yippage.

But let's not call it being sick. As no one wants to read stories of people going to puke town.

Nope. Instead let's go with 'rainbow streams'.

E.g. Consider...

'Did Miss6 just hurl huge chunks everywhere?'

versus...

'Did Miss6 just rainbow fountain everywhere?'

See a lot nicer.

(As modelled by some pandas… as is the fashion… (it’s not))

All the kids have been creating rainbow fountains.

Everywhere. At night. During the day. On and on.

The washing machine has been working on overdrive. Constantly cleaning sheets, pillows, duvets and clothing. Only Boy9 is able to get to a rainbow collection bucket in time.

Well done Boy9. Thoroughly appreciated.

Miss6. Getting there.

BabyBoy2. Dude... You're not even trying.

(He's not, he cares not).

Anyhoo...

Team Parent (yay!).

Were giggling along to the latest episode of Peter Kay's Car Share. Great show.

When we heard BabyBoy2 leave his room. Shut his door. Because he likes doors shut (??) and THUD THUD into our room. For such tiny feet he has hella heavy foot falls.

A quick reminder that I am on BabyBoy2 duty as I put him to bed from the rest of Team Parent (yay!). And I am off to see what is going on.

Poor little lad. Stomping about in the dark trying to find his parents in their room.

When they are downstairs watching tele.

I switch on lights as I go and eventually find BabyBoy2 looking at our bed wondering where on earth we both are...

You alright mate?

BabyBoy2: <Sad voice> 'Wet'

And not just wet.

Wet would have been good. Wet is a change of clothes. A new nappy. Wet wipe anywhere that's too smelly. Cuddles. And back to bed. Easy.

Nope.

The smell on walking into the room tells me it's not just 'wet'. The poor little sausage has been sick.

Which always makes my heart skip a little in fear. Because what if?

But all three of them have done it for years and been fine.

Heart skip done. I pick him up and it's all down his front.

Rainbow juice that is.

I call for Mrs. Amazing.

<Grabs Bat phone>

And the standard Team Parent (yay!) disaster recovery team goes into action.

Mrs. Amazing arrives and takes BabyBoy2 into the bathroom. I pass her fresh jammies and nappy. Whilst I head into BabyBoy2's room to see how bad the situation is.

Rainbow fluid needs serious cleaning and clearing up. Else the smell stays.

I pray that by chance BabyBoy2 has somehow got himself a bucket and has filled it.

No chance.

(What’s in the bucket?

Boy9: ‘Rainbows’

Oh ni…. EWWWWW!

I nearly pass out walking into his room.

And I've been called to a lot rainbow affected rooms. Still this smell staggers me.

Yuk.

Like a crime scene investigator I work out where the rainbow fountain came from and what has happened. It seems pretty clear BabyBoy2 had sat up at some point. Created his rainbow.

And then gone back to sleep.

Rainbow damage can be severe.

Bed sheets. Duvet. Floor mat. Anywhere it touches.

Luckily he missed all his teddies. As they are a right pain to wash and kill germs with.

I pull off all the sheets and bundle them by the door.

Mrs. Amazing adds to the bundle with a towel and BabyBoy2's jammies. All rainbow stained.

Then I realise the very cool and very helpful plastic sheet we normally have on his bed.

Isn't there. Crap.

Undersheets off too. And brilliant! There's a towel there.

Mrs. Amazing you either had quite a moment and put a towel away really, really badly. Or, and it's this one, you're the kind of genius that puts a towel under your two year olds sheets just in case.

I remove the towel and sniff the mattress.

Brainzilla: 'You did what?'

I wanted to be sure...

Brainzilla: 'And if it was pukey, how would your nose feel?'

... <Head drops>... But it wasn't...

Brainzilla: 'This time!'

Good point git...

Then I clean up what is on the floor.

It's going to go in about third on my list of things I've done that were so gross I nearly rainbowed myself. And I've a long list. I watched a Bieber video once.

And I'm normally sent in as cleaner. This isn't my first clean up. It won't be my last.

And I'm male. I have to use male toilets. Which are gross. I am sure it makes you stronger against smells like this. Still...

It's a bad one.

<Nearly makes own rainbow fountain>

I fill the washing machine with sheets.

Boil wash to make sure the germs are deaded as much as possible. And as I don't want to be scraping off rainbow chunks. I stuff as much as I can in the machine without overfilling it. I want the machine to do the scraping for me. As I don't want to. Ew.

There's two loads worth. So the rest I wrap in itself and leave until the morning.

As a present!

Before I head back up stairs.

I turn off the tele. The lights. Everything. Power up the security grids, release the dragons, and set the attack robots to kill maim.

Without even asking Mrs. Amazing I know that tonight is done. We'll finish Car Share another night. Poorly boy has arrived.

All other activities suspended.

Once back in Team Parents (yay!) bedroom.

I find Mrs. Amazing in jammies ready for bed (told you). A smaller bed laid out next to ours.

BabyBoy2 was recently upgraded from cot to bed. So we have a mattress hanging about. Silver linings etc.

A spare pillow and case found for BabyBoy2. And there sat under a warm blanket, freshly cleaned and washed. Big smile on his face.

And basically very happy about life and what's going on. BabyBoy2.

Who it seems could not be happier to be in our room for a change. It's all very exciting for him. But he's knackered and after only a few Shhhh'es and Dude's!

BabyBoy2 finally crashes out.

Next day.

I have the day off to look after him. Mrs. Amazing heads off into the real world to battle sea demons and save ancient civilizations (I may have misunderstood what she said).

I call nursery as they refuse to have any rainbowers at all (and still charge us).

Then I launder the crap out of everything. Really put the washing machine through it's paces once again.

Sun is out and it's windy. So everything is dry and ready to go back on BabyBoy2's bed that afternoon. Which we do together (BabyBoy2 mainly watches and jumps on stuff).

As we (I) finish I tell BabyBoy2 the good news he can sleep in his own bed tonight...

BabyBoy2: 'NOOOOOOOOOOO! Me sleep in your room. Not go back my room!' <Cries a bit>

Come on... Let's see what sheets we can find for you...

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!'

You mean Spider-man... (we don't have any Iron Man sheets)

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!!!'

...

<Cannot find Iron Man or Spidey sheets anywhere>

<Finds Buzz sheets but no pillow>

How about Buzz Lightyear? <Is hopeful>

BabyBoy2: <Maybe face>

With this pillow case? <Holds pillow that is clearly not Buzz>

BabyBoy2: 'Iron man!!!' <Is going to cry again>

BabyBoy2: '...'

BabyBoy2: <Suddenly runs to Team Parent's (yay!) room>

Where are you going?... <Watches lazily helplessly>

BabyBoy2: <Returns holding the spare pillow he had last night>

Brilliant!

(No no!... No!

… that's my pillow…)

Would you believe it.

BabyBoy2 had remembered what pillowcase he had been given last night. Nutter.

I hadn't for obv. reasons. Who cares.

But back came BabyBoy2. Holding his Buzz LightYear pillow case like a sack of flour .

Now, very happy to sleep in his own bed again.

Little loonie.

X