Off to mothers home to give her a card and Mothers Day gift. Its almost lunchtime and I haven't told the girls they are having lunch at Pizza Hut. In fact they think that we are eating at their Nanas. Now you know the saying "Like mother used to make", well lets just say my mother likes to test her cooking resolve out on us. There is fear in their eyes and tummies are a turning.
Pizza hut is great and Gabby, who has been asleep on my lap for ages wakes to find lots of happy screaming kids and balloons around her. There is hardly a sound from our table apart from the gnarling of cheesy pizza and slurping of fizzy black soda. (Yes I know its Pepsi, but if they are not going to indorse me to advertise for them, then I'm not going to give them a plug on my site).
Next a trip around the local county park, where the kids get to go on swings that face each other in a circle and then they get to kick the stuffing out of one and other for FUN! At home they do this but I get lots of crying and finger pointing, strange isn't it?

Ah the Sun is out, the sky is blue, there's not a cloud to spoil the view, but the wallets empy and the bank account too. Vet bills to pay and tomorrows Mothers day, special advanced learning for my eldist and new Brownie outfits for the next two. And what of the baby? well shes got a cold, a real icky one with sneezing, coughing and sniffling. Still one thing for sure I will save money on tissues as Gabby seems to like wiping her nose on my shirt.

Music soothes the savage beast, on in this case the "Not Tired" baby. She's sat on my knee as I bounce her to the rhythmic sounds of pop, rock and soul. How quiet she sits her eyes glued to the visualisation that explodes across my screen. Oh how I realise that this is just a ruse as more troubled times are to follow. How do I know, you ask? Well my other three daughters are leaning over my shoulder demanding daddy turns off his strange oldies music for something more hip (is that the word I ask shrugging my shoulders). Well whatever they think I remember how much better my music is compared to what my parents played.
Wait a minute, my daughters music is a re-release of what my parents played!!!

Watching my baby as she tears into the wrapping paper, that coincidently had hidden the expensive toy that now lay face down in the middle of the lounge floor, I realised that sometimes the simplest things in life can achieve a far better result than money. Obviously money has its place but sometimes it can be an easy get out to a problem rather than the solution. It was easy to please with a "Who wants an ice cream?" when boredom had set in at home, rather than to get of the couch and do something simple with them that would fill the long hours of a wet afternoon.
So a plan of action was now taking place in my head. A pack of cards or even colouring pencils and paper had its place. Old newspapers and paste or even a rummage through the shed to see what wood we could use with hammer and nails to make something. Yes I can see it now a secret hide-a-way at the bottom of the garden. Pictures from the girls pinned to the walls, old paints brightening the exterior. Maybe we could have a picnic and even invite their friends!
Ah but wait!
"Is that the ice cream man I hear, who wants a lollypop?"