Mothers Day 2017

Firstly, A Story With Little To Do With Celebrating Mothers Day

Peppa Pig has a lot to answer for. Her chuckling father too.

“Everybody outside,” I told the kids this morning after they’d all almost chipped in to get the bus looking nice for when their Mum arrived home from taking photos of a couple of lovely local families.

Miss13 had been awesome, tidying up the beds her siblings had made and then getting down on her knees to sweep out the dirt and grass from under tables and beds before mopping the whole place out.

I did the dishes and put through the washing, but the best which could be said for the rest of them is they stayed out of our way.

Which is probably why Miss13 was happy to leave her place of work but the rest of them moaned their objections.

“But, Dad,” Miss10 complained, because she’s their champion, “it’s going to rain.”

“I’ve thought of that,” I assured her, and by assuring her, them. “I’ve cleared the bikes out of the gazebos and opened up the tent. You’re all set. Get out.”

And can I just say it was a brilliant – Brilliant! – decision. Not only would the bus remain clean, but I could get on with what I needed to do for the day, starting with a nice, long, warm shower.

A short while later the door opened.

“We’re jumping in muddy puddles!” screamed Miss7.

“Come and watch us!” screamed Miss5.

Because of course, in the eyes of my kids, I’d want to see that.

“Stop right there!” I said, throwing myself out of Tracey’s and my bed which I was ‘making’ and pushing my way past them in the kitchen as I raced groggily down the bus aisle to the door. “Don’t come in!”

The doorway was, of course, empty.

“Yay!” yelled Miss5 and Miss7 in unison, themselves pushing past me now in their hurry to get back outside. “Come on, Daddy!”

As it still wasn’t raining, and as I refused at that point to look at the mess they’d just dragged into the bus, I slipped on my thongs and followed them to the area in front of the bus, where we all got to fill our lungs and yell at the top of our voices. And I mean really yell.

“Look!” yelled Miss7, jumping in the air and coming down two booted with a solid splash. “We’re jumping in muddy puddles!”

“It’s so fun!” Miss5 yelled, stomping in as well.

“Stop!” I yelled. “NO! NO! NO! That’s the bloody grey water!”

Grey water, and assorted gunk, which was now splashed not only all over their clothes but also up the centre of our ever so recently clean bus.

I really don’t understand how Daddy Pig kept his voice so un-daddyishly civil throughout the series. Can only assume it must have been because he knew the cameras were rolling.

‘Real’ puddles, because fortunately it rained a short while later meaning the girls could get back into their Peppa Pig impersonations without me gagging and yelling.

My Mothers Day angel.
She even made gluten free macaroni and cheese for lunch.
Before the rain hit, we got to watch some polo crosse today at the Bungendore Showgrounds where we’re staying ($20 a night for the seven of us in a powered site, just sayin’). Mad. They’re all mad. Especially the guys behind the goals who watch for if the ‘ball’ goes through the posts instead of the weapons of hoofed destruction thundering down on them.

Secondly, A Video With Everything To Do With Celebrating Mothers Day

Here’s the kids’ present to their Mum – a play in her honour. This is why people on buses should always kick their kids outside (I’ve decided). While I made my bed (hid from the kids) they put this together. I confess I had no idea what they were doing until they asked me to film them when Tracey came home. You can tell because I would have suggested they yell less when playing our parts, especially during our courtship when we were both rather soft spoken, primarily because their older siblings were sleeping in the next room.

Also, you’ll see Miss13 is playing me and Master12 is Tracey. Because obviously.

This video is overlong at 4 minutes and isn’t hindered by any sort of clever editing at all. I’m talking absolutely no production values. But we LOVE IT just the way it is. Especially their laughter through it – they thought they were hilarious too. Rather wonderfully, we realised afterwards it could count towards english (scripting) and drama (acting) in their homeschooling for all five of them, which meant they’d earned some time on their iPads while I cooked dinner without any squabbling. Now that’s a Mothers Day gift.

If a video isn’t loading here between this sentence and the one ending in ‘squabbling’ (I’ve heard that can happen) here’s a LINK to it on Youtube.

The milestone events the kids have included in their play are:

  1. The birth of Tracey.
  2. Tracey running away from her sister straight into a glass door. Because apparently someone hurting themselves is always funny – even 30 years after the event.
  3. Our courtship.
  4. Miss13’s ability to drop to sleep wherever she is – presumably so they could add in Master25 and Miss22 to the story, and because Miss13 wrote this bit (that’s a guess, but I’d put money on it).
  5. Kids being able to blame Tracey needing iron if they’re in trouble.

You know, all the highlights from the last 40 years.

Didn’t manage to take a shot of his hernia-bump, which was constructed out of a bicycle helmet, before he removed it. Also, can I draw your attention to the mudless – and dishwashing/clotheswashing scumless – floor.  

Raising a family on little more than laughs

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