Our Sunday started so well. No major celebrities had passed away over night, (always puts a downer on my morning), Monty had only kicked me in the neck once, and the sun was shining. I knew deep down, today was going to be a good day.

At 8am, Tim found three rotten bananas in the fruit bowl and decided he was going to be all “super-dad’. He asked Monty to help him make some banana bread, however it wasn’t until the recipe told them to add butter that he realised we didn’t have any! I suggested extra virgin olive oil and he winced, so I directed him to the coconut oil. Much to my amazement he managed to get the quantity right and the banana bread was delish! Another proper parenting “whoop” and high five while the children devoured it.

I suggested we head off to Blaxland Park which is about 35 minutes drive from us, and according to Google was the most awesome park in Sydney! We did so well, we got everyone showered, teeth brushed; I know, right now you’re thinking S**T she got the kids washed and brushed their teeth!!? Yes I did, and all in under an hour and a half! *High five to me!

We shoved a couple of water bottles and some more rotten fruit into the backpack and headed out the door. Once Tim had forced Monty into his car seat, (knee in the chest job) we drove off with “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” being read to us by Eric Carle on volume 43, with shouts of “I CAAAAANT HEAR IT”. Oh good grief, what did I say about “a good day?”

Tim had put the wrong address in to the Sat Nav, (ok ok maybe you hadn’t), so 15 minutes into the journey we were on the verge of divorce. “Why do you speak to me like I’m four?” “I wasn’t, you were talking to me like I was 4!”. You know the one!! The children were sat in the back looking at us in role reversal. I was expecting one of them to tell us to “simmer down” at any minute.

Once the route was properly established (I cleverly put in the correct address), and divorce was off the cards, we changed the CD and all happily sang along to “tie me kangaroo down sport” and “my boomerang wont come back”…. When in Oz!!

Blaxland park is strategically placed adjacent to the prison. This worked in our favour. As we drove up, we pointed out the high fences, barbed wire and security cameras, told the children what sort of naughty buggers were in there, and warned them that’s where they’d be if they misbehaved in the park.. Jesus, they stuck by us like sardines…. Until they saw the splash zone, then all hell broke loose.

There were socks flying in all directions, undies being shoved in my back pocket, the rucksack was nearly torn to shreds as they looked for their cozzies. I was trying my hardest to slap sun-cream on them before they legged it, which meant they weren’t only sun safe, they also looked like grass monsters. Monty even had some rubbish and a little possum dropping stuck to his leg from when he’d tried to escape my slippery grip.

*Super Parenting Tip: Always do sunscreen while naked before leaving the house. (FYI you don’t need to be naked to apply someones sunscreen).

The park was rammed. Kids flying all over the place. Some laughing, a few crying,  quite a lot more looking completely terrified as they had blatantly lost their parents.

Blaxland is a huge park, with slides, swings, hiding places and lots of tunnels going through grass mounds. It’s very much like the place the Teletubbies live, but thankfully no Tinkywinky, Dipsy, Lala or Po! This chaotic landscape means that as soon as one of your children decides to leg it, you really need to think on your feet. “Who is my favourite?”

I usually go with whoever has been best behaved on that particular day. So today, it was looking good for Poppy! Monty has a habit of seeing something cool and going all zombie on us. Today was no exception, although when he went all zombie and headed out of the splash zone, a massive kid wiped him out and gave him a nose bleed. Phew, thanks buddy! It was a blessing in disguise. It saved me twenty minutes of heart palpitations, and excessively sweaty palms.

 

After a good four hours of playing, whooping and legging it into the distance to give mummy a heart attack, the children were lured back to the car with the promise of stopping for a treat on the way home! We were all hot, pink as prawns, and worn out. I had absolutely nothing planned for dinner, a “holiday fridge” (clean and empty), and it was getting dark.  My inner *super parent* took over and I veered into the corner shop car park, hopped out and hunter gathered for my little ones. Two frozen pizzas and a tub of maltezers later and we were set for the night!

The house was chilly when we got in. Not sure why we now find 20 degrees chilly but I can assure you we do. We closed the shutters, put a movie on, and settled in for the night.  Tim poured the red wine, the pizzas were crisping up nicely, and the children were becoming square eyed in front of the TV. I looked round, and thought wow, we are such lucky folk. A roof over our head,  food in the oven, what more do we need!? Maybe to work on our table manners, but hey, we’ve got plenty of time for that! TV dinner at the ready!! *High five!

Pretty perfect bank holiday Monday all in all!

Keep your eyes peeled for the next blog! Wish us luck!