VOL 6. - DEATH BY PLAYDATE

School Holidays: otherwise known as death by playdate.

When you have 4 children, you are always surrounded by love, laughter, sibling squabbles, chicken nuggets, tears, snot
and kisses (sometimes snotty kisses). All of this is magnified during the school holidays. 

School holidays are awesome and much needed. Those little learners get tired and need some down time and an
opportunity to reboot. 

However, it just so happens that their idea of ‘down time’ strictly involves the Nintendo, the iPads, the data, the landline,
the Netflix, the STAN, the Foxtel, the lot!

So, last week we decided to ban screen time. The keyword in that sentence being WE.

Well actually, my husband. FunDaddy was the one to pull the plug (get it?). 

He said we need to limit or even ban screen time. Its not good for them because they need to get outside and play. So he
hides said devices, remotes, WiFi passcodes, and I assume the role of entertainment director on the cruise ship that is our
spirited home – planning and executing the entire two week itinerary of holiday activities that are fun and also screen-less.
We is starting to feel like I got the short end of this. 

But nonetheless, we did it.

We visited every free park within a 50km radius, we invited friends, we packed snacks, we rode bikes, we scooted scooters,
we kicked balls, we applied endless amounts of sun cream, we used up every last Bandaid from various scrapes and splinters…and
that was just in the first week.

I then took out a second mortgage to take the kids to the movies – WOW isn’t that a quick $150 and then some! That was even after
smuggling in our homemade popcorn and woollies bought confections.

I also went to Kmart. – Fun fact: I was late to the discovery of Kmart and all her gloriousness. Rest assured our love affair now
goes deep and will last the test of time. – I bought canvases and paints and drop cloths and brushes and we art and crafted the
stuffing out of Wednesday. CRAFTernoon, some clever Pinterest creator named it. 

It had been an amazing, hilarious, outdoors, hands on, playdates, artsy, movies, fun-filled week and a half. 

But we had arrived at the last two days of the holidays, and I was done. Tired was an understatement. Broke and penniless too.
As I tucked ONE, TWO and THREE into bed that night (FOUR goes down earlier), I suggested we have a ‘Home Day’. 

Well, I might as well have chopped off their legs and stolen their Sol de Janeiro sprays! 

How could I propose such a ridiculous notion? Staying home? Mum, come on. What is a minivan for if not to fill and explore? 

Side note – The minivan is in desperate need of a service, radiator needs replacing, (Dear Toyota, I am not too proud to beg
for a new minivan. Please consider, oh what a feeling that would be…).

“No”, I say. “We need to stay home tomorrow.” 

They consider this and then as if they have had a secret meeting in their minds right in front of me, start hurling conditions
and negotiations at me… 

“Ok. BUT, only if we can have pancakes for breakfast…”

“Ok. BUT, only if we can invite neighbour next door and neighbour down the street over…”

“Ok. But only if we can have our devices back for like 2 hours, no 3, yeah 3 hours …”

I walk away as they continue their treaty of terms and conditions for what I had hoped would be my gentle, quiet home day.
I think to myself, now, now is when I need to ring my Thelma and drive to Mexico. Quick escape.

But then ONE sneaks out of the summit meeting, to give me one more kiss goodnight and tell me that her painting is the best
one she has ever done and thanks me for such a great new paint brush. And I am reminded of how much I’d miss them if
Thelma and I ran off to Mexico. 

I make a promise to erect the best fort with lounge cushions and bean bags the world has ever seen the next day. And we do.
And we snuggle inside, and I may have even closed my eyes for a moment or two. 

Being with them is the best part of the school holidays. 

And when FunDaddy got home and asked what we had done today, the little people dragged him into the lounge room to show
him our construction ever so proudly. I also added that I had fed them, stopped them from killing each other at various stages
and not spent one cent. He smiled. Kissed me on the head and said “You know I couldn’t do what you do, my school holiday
Queen” and in my head I thought ‘Of course! I bloody know you couldn’t’ – but it’s still very nice to hear it.

As we approach the next school term Mamas and Pappas I wish you all happy ironing, quick, easy and nutritious lunches, and
may your lids and containers all match up. This is your friendly reminder to check the school bags you should have checked
on the last day of term. No judgement here - it is ok to throw out the container that is growing – Godspeed to you all.