There’s less than three weeks to go until I jet off to Spain for my best mate’s hen do. It was booked before I had Eva and to be honest, I’ve been dreading it. I’ve never left Eva for more than about 20 hours and the anxiety I am getting about the whole thing already.
Until days like today!
5:30am and Eva is awake. Sobbing her little heart out which is completely out of character for her, as she is most definitely a morning person.
Off I go down the stairs to get her and I’m greeted to a little girl with the grumpiest face and the rosiest cheeks. Looks like the teething fairy visited last night! The tooth fairy’s evil bitch of a twin sister. Great.
Back up the stairs and thanks to the joy that is pregnancy, nature calls! So I leave Eva in bed with an equally grumpy Daddy and head back down the stairs, slipping on stray nappy sack and hit every step on the way down, landing in a heap on my arse at the bottom. Lovely.
Just about to head back up the stairs and more crying, only this time it’s Eric, our 10 week old puppy who is downstairs and probably wanting to pee. That’s it! We’re up!
Bless Eric, absolutely overjoyed to see me so early in the morning. So overjoyed that he’s left a giant shit in his bed as a present. Brilliant.
First load of washing of the day. My neighbour, Amy, is out hanging out her washing too, much to my surprise. Although she has a 11 month old and a 4 year old, so I guess her Sunday mornings are just as easy as mine! And here comes Eric to tug my leggings off the line and run around the garden with them. He thinks he’s hilarious! I’m sure it was quite funny to watch, but for me, it was just another mishap to add to the series of unfortunate events that was Sunday. Awesome.
Eva fed. Washing out drying. Second load in. Brew time. Wrong! Queue Eva’s crying fit, because did you not know? She’s been up since 5:30 and she’s had a very strenuous morning. Nevermind, I’ll get her to sleep and drink my brew once she’s settled. 30 minutes later and I’m drinking my cuppa. Cold. Fantastic.
Off to get a shower. But wait. In comes Adam with Eric. He’s been chewing glue he’s managed to get off the fence in the garden and it’s now all stuck in his fur. “We’ll have to take him to the vets. I can’t get it off”. Really? Babywipes, the answer to all of the world’s problems, can’t get glue out of the dog’s fur? Who knew. So, after an hour of scrubbing the flaming dog with baby oil and pulling glue from his fur, then bathing him, then drying him, I’m off for a shower. Two minutes of heaven.
Dressed and ready to dry my hair, my grumpy man child comes in to complain he’s hungry. And? So, hair still wet, I guess I’ll throw it up in a bun and go food shopping. Fantastic.
Is there anything more hellish than a packed Aldi on a Sunday? Screaming kids, skeleton staff and adults wanting to be anywhere else. Why didn’t I do the online shop last night?! Why?!
Weaving through the masses, trying to pick up ingredients for a week of hopefully healthy meals and I must mutter “where’s your daddy gone” about 700 times. Getting to the till to pack the bags (with no help) with military precision and at top speed. Seriously, why do Aldi throw your items at you at such a pace?!
Back home, lunch time. For Eva. Packing the shopping away and throwing out everything we didn’t eat the previous week (mainly salad and veg). Adam sulking because all I’ve bought is “healthy shit that I don’t like”. I finally give in and he goes to get a McDonald’s. Fab. That’s my diet and budgeting, ruined already and it’s only 1 o’clock. How long have I been awake now?
Feeling like a complete fat pig, I trot up the stairs to empty our spare room, that needs to resemble my office by next week. It’s been the dumping ground since we moved in and is literally bursting from floor to ceiling with crap.
What shitty job. Made even worse by finding all of my summer clothes, which no longer fit and probably never will again. The shortest shorts you ever did see and I’m left wondering how my arse ever fit into them. Strappy tops, bikinis, dresses, all for the charity shop!
Before I know it, it’s Eva bath time. So clambering over the boxes on the floor, I slip, catching my leg on something sharp, cutting it from my knee to my ankle. Is there anything else that can be thrown at me today?!
I put Eva to bed after a good hour of settling her and I know we’re in for a sleepless night. Off downstairs, clean up, fold up all the washing, let the dog out and it’s off to bed for me. I’m checking out.
So on the days when I’m dreading leaving my family for the sandy beaches, I need to remember days like these and realise…. I deserve a fucking break!