This weekend it is my best-friend-since-the-beginning-of-time's hen weekend. It has been on the horizon for a while now but then suddenly BOOM! It was almost here.
It will be the first time I have been away from my little dudes overnight, except, you know, every time I go to work. But this is different- 3 whole nights and days away in succession...oops, sorry, salivating on to my keyboard there slightly.
When I first told Chris he went into shock. Literally.
He sat, silent and frozen, in a state of catatonia, until I waved my hands in front of his face:
"What's the matter?!"
"I didn't know it was going to be 3 nights" he said, so quietly it was almost inaudible.
So, his youngest sister is coming to help out, and just generally to spend time with the boys because she doesn't get to see them that often and they love her and vice versa. Since these arrangements were put in place, the colour has returned to Chris's cheeks slightly.
As for me, well I've been on a rollercoaster of emotions about it, and that's just this week alone. It's gone a little something like this:
Oh my god it's Monday! The hen do is this weekend. Shit me, that's come around fast! Woot woot! So excited!
Oh my god, I can't believe I'm leaving these delightful little cherubs for a whole weekend. My lovely lovely boys, I'll miss them so much *sniff*
Sheesh these kids are hard work, I hope Chris will be able to cope on his own with them all weekend. Oh wait... his sister is coming. I remember now. They'll be fine. Now where's the wine, I mean err coffee, yes coffee
GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!
Seriously, it's like they picked up on my sentimentality on Tuesday and thought Let's give her a proper send-off.
On Tuesday Toby whipped out the "I don't like you, I only like DADDY" card. Of course Daddy wasn't around so it was all about the "I WANT DADDY!" every time I told him off, which was frequently, because he kept doing stupid shit he knows he isn't supposed to do, like snatching things off his brother, pushing him over, shouting in my face, slamming doors in a temper, and throwing a pancake at me. Yes, you read that right. And yes, he's three. I really have no explanation, he's usually a pretty good kid, so either the chicken pox has affected him mentally, or he's about to get his period.
Yesterday he woke up believing he was in a musical. It started with him singing on the toilet at 7am and waking the entire house, and ended with him playing his bath flutes at around 7pm and in-between there was much shrieking, and which I think everyone in Burnage Tesco, me included, really enjoyed.
Rudy has been on top form, ripping pages in books, pouring liquids on to electricals and climbing, always climbing, and never sitting still for one single minute.
Yesterday evening Chris and I shared a bottle of wine. We should know better by now really. Whenever we get smug , enjoy a relaxing evening together and go to bed late (err 10..30 actually) the kids somehow know, and they make us pay. They were like a tiny tag team of terror, taking it in turns to wake us hourly until we had no choice but to start being pissed off at each other because of it. Chris slept through his alarm and was late for work. I had a "lie in" until 7.30am (presumably because the kids inadvertently also knackered themselves out in the process of wrecking our sleep) and woke up in a BAD MOOD. Where I continue to be as I write this and my children fight over Megabloks.
Hen Weekend: I am READY. BRING IT.