Are we there yet?
“You couldn’t make it up!” I heard my husband saying it at the same time I was thinking it (my eyes still shut tight); because every single child woke up so sprightly this morning having had a permitted (very) late night. Oh yes...it’s the first day of the holidays!
They were early too; like really early. I’m usually having to drag them out of bed, ask (often beg) them too many times or resort to asking Alexa to play something overly loud in their bedroom. This morning we certainly do not need another rendition of Wham’s ‘Wake me up before you go go...’ they are well and truly awake... it’s me who has no go go!
On my way back upstairs I sip on my cold caffeine fix in the hope of mustering up some energy. In the minutes I was gone I return to find the landing is now scattered in jumbled jigsaw pieces; fetched by number 3. A half-hearted attempt to piece together Peppa and George surfing on Daddy Pigs tummy has once again been abandoned in search of another plastic favourite. This time it’s the fruit & vegetables they like to spend time chopping and sawing; the kind that are attached to their other half with Velcro. More mess. She asks if she can make me ‘breakfast’. As I negotiate my way back to the bedroom, stopping to flick a puzzle piece now attached to the soul of my foot, I agree with a nod; my lips still tightly wrapped around the straw, hoping to suck more life out of the coffee and with any luck, into me!
She brings me breakfast with a smile. A basket full of chopped up courgette, strawberries and half a carrot. I pretend to enjoy the plastic goodness with enthusiasm and added “Mmmmm” whilst rubbing my tummy, as I silently wonder how many times I will have to ask for her to pick up her puzzle pieces before I resign to the floor once again to do it myself. I’m also reminded of how annoyed I am that the banana no longer sticks to its other side, and I still cannot place the middle section of that 3 piece tomato, with the all important ‘coarse’ Velcro attached to both sides and so it’s outer segments don’t stick to each other either -sigh.
I contemplate where to actually start... because today... we are going away!
I deliberately didn’t pack a thing yesterday. Two reasons. One. I made a pact (with myself) that this weekend break would not stress me out in the slightest. Two. I simply didn’t have time!
Now is it just me, or do all mums get totally overwhelmed when it comes to packing up the entire house for the whole family to enjoy a few days away? My husband often likes to ‘surprise’ me with last minute weekends away, often with zero warning. And I mean zero. The record to date has been 3 hours notice! Now you might think I sound like an ungrateful cow? (I know I sound like an ungrateful cow!) but the pure mind-feck that comes with this mammoth task is sometimes just too much. Flip that... and other times I am a stress-free, speedy precision packer, where I thrive on my one hour challenge (the other two hours dedicated to getting the 4 children ready and pre-holiday housework!).
The truth is.. I really don’t want to go (I know I sound like that moo cow again!). This weekend we are having our house decorated, and because of the potent smell of white satin wood paint we simply cannot stay here. The Plan was to stay with the parents. Nanny & Grandad can help to look after the kiddies, giving me a break and allowing hubby and I to nip backwards and forwards to move bits of furniture room by room when necessary.
Scrap that; because darling husband doesn’t fancy staying with the in-laws, and so instead, books a last minute ‘Hot tub holiday’ in a lodge just 30 miles down the road. With all 4 children AND my parents in tow - romantic (Did I mention it’s our 10 year Wedding Anniversary this weekend?)
Number 3 has decided to brush her teeth and squeezes toothpaste all over the new carpet. My attempts to scrub it with a baby wipe hasn’t worked. The husband is oblivious to this as he sits on the end of the bed contemplating the all important decision as to whether or not we should take two cars or just the one! I’ll take a shower then!
A little more refreshed, I return to start the packing. I psych myself up and plan to be the stress-free precision packer, not the procrastinating one I often am.
2 hours on, I have succumbed to the pressure of smashing it ‘like a boss’ and I am indeed the latter. Slumped on the kids bedroom floor in my sports bra and big knickers - attractive, desperately battling a mind full of things to remember and this disgusting heat (I mean wonderful weather) we are having! I am no closer to closing the case, neither am I even thinking about sinking into that Hot tub, glass in hand! As I know the kids will commandeer it immediately and I will spend the entire time dishing out towels & goggles, supervising so they don’t start squabbling and drown each other and rinsing out swimming costumes! Oh... swimming costumes - tick.
My only saviour is the fact that this time dear husband did give me 3 days notice, And so I’ve spent these days washing and ironing every last item of clothing we own (that’s for all 6 of us) so I can pick from clean and pressed items, not rummage through the wash bag to find the all important things we need and pack them anyway along with a tube of hand wash soap! In addition this week, I have fitted in two sports days, pointless packed lunch with the kids at their school. One ‘farewell to foundation’ afternoon where I had to drag along 2 other children to help make fruit kebabs and blow bubbles in the playground - and an afternoon at my High School saying an emotional goodbye to colleagues I’ve worked with for 15 years - all in over 30 degree heat. Boom!
I was feeling smug about my super mum achievements last night, now I’m just a sweating mess, feeling sorry for myself. I am still on the floor - sigh again!
It’s done. I’m not even relieved. But instead panicking about the fact that I now have to move the entire contents of my house... into the middle of my house!
You see, I don’t think darling husband thought this through really. Every single skirting board, architrave and door is being refreshed with new white paint and that means the house needs preparing! Cue a huge task which includes taking delicate wine glasses out of the cabinet for fear of a bottle bank-in-the-making if it’s moved without doing so; bunk bed removal and toy box shifting. Of course this means I now need to hoover and clean the skirting boards that haven’t seen daylight in a number of years to rid the thick fluffy grey dust. Floors need mopping, furniture needs relocating and toys need storing. The children decide this is an excellent opportunity to scan the material squares that house the toys in their bedroom to find things they have clearly forgotten about - damn, and proceed to cover my bedroom floor with the smallest items they can find. Trolls, LOL dolls, My Little Ponies & their belongings are strewn across the floor and en suit - sigh yet again!
This morning the kids were given cereal and a breakfast bar with the promise of lunch in the complex. It’s now nearly 3 pm. Fat chance of lunch so they are snacking on ice poles and crisps! I did manage a slice of jam on gluten free toast at around 10 am, I say a slice, number 2 had half of it!
I am eventually sitting in the front of the car, hair half up half down, not a scrap of make up and my feet are bare. I can’t even speak, I’m too exhausted. Darling husband had packed up the car and the things he is in charge of. Phone chargers, laptops, iPads etc; made sure the kids had been to the toilet and strapped them in the car with their drinks and bedtime teddies. He has been waiting in the car with them for the last 15 minutes enjoying the air con and bopping along to the tunes. I joined them having completed everything else as well as the last minute bits of packing you have to remember for a ‘bring-the-fucking-lot-yourself’ type of holiday, which include amenities that are indeed entirely necessary yet we take for granted to just ‘be there’ in our own homes! Tea bags, washing up liquid and sponge, cereal, bread, salt & pepper, coffee... need I go on... (I must point out that these things would have all been readily available at my mum & dads house!)
“Here’s mummy...we’ve been waiting for you”.. I am greeted with a chorus of cheers. I’m a bedraggled mess. And somehow I’ve been made to feel late!
Are we there yet?