Mr M&H is away on a stag do for his brother. He left on Friday morning and is meant to be back sometime on Saturday. I have been looking forward to my peaceful evening of DVD box sets for weeks.
On Friday night, after Mole and Hedgehog are in bed, I hang out the laundry in the garden while watching the setting sun and get a ‘contented to be in my own home’ feeling, mixed with a slightly spooked ‘I’m here all on my own save for two little ones and I hope to god it’s not haunted’ feeling. Which is ridiculous, because we’ve lived here for two years and there’s never been a hint of haunting.
I spend the evening not sitting though football or listening to guitar playing, but play ‘Fleetwood Mac’ as loudly as I dare without disturbing the sleeping Mole and Hedgehog, while eating chocolate. I have a bubble bath, I drink wine, I call a friend, and generally bathe in my solo-ness.
Later in bed, I do the starfish. The house is dark and quiet, I pull the covers over my head.
In the morning Mole and Hedgehog come into bed with me and we have blissful cuddles, the nest is complete. We have a leisurely breakfast and they never once ask where daddy is. Later, we have a christening to go to. It is a cold windy day and the thought of getting everyone ready, striding through the gales and negotiating the church pews with a double buggy gives me doubts, but it gets us out of the house, so we go.
Mole threatens to have a meltdown in the church, right at the critical moment over the font, so I spend the entire service placating her with crayons in the children’s corner. Hedgehog sleeps in the buggy which I silently thank the gods for. Three hours later we are home, windswept, tired and hungry.
Six hours, naps, lunch, dinner in the slow cooker, swings, painting and baking sessions later, and I’m beginning to look at the clock wondering when he’ll be returning from the stags. I get a phone call. He’ll be back after Mole and Hedgehog’s bedtime, so he’ll get a taxi from the station. Okay, that’s fine, just a few hours longer than expected, but okay, whatever. As eight o’clock turns into ten o’clock there is another phone call, he’s staying overnight, he’ll be home on Sunday.
Are you kidding me?. I’ve been alone with the Mole and Hedgehog all week, and now it’s turning into the weekend as well? all because he couldn’t move with his hangover? is it me? or is this bullsh*t?. Thoughts of taking off for a long spa weekend, just when Hedgehog is at the height of teething and Mole is having one of her special meltdowns comes to mind.
Sunday morning comes. I have ideas of going to the zoo, since we still don’t know when Mr M&H aka 'hair of the dog' is returning. The car won’t start. Of all the days, it would have to be this one, when I most want to escape. The breakdown man comes. It is a flat battery. The garage is solidly booked and can’t come until Tuesday.
I take Mole and Hedgehog to the swings. It is another windy day and Hedgehog nearly gets blown off the slide. Mole’s nose starts streaming and although stoical, her hands begin to go blue, so I admit defeat and go back indoors. Just as we’re going in the back door, he returns with the grandparents, who are dropping him off.
I give him my thunder face and cold shoulder treatment for a couple of hours, until finally relenting to his charms and warming up again. Going out for a swim and leaving him to handle dinner, bath and bedtime on his own helped with this.
That was a year ago. I still haven’t done the spa weekend away. But… we have done a twosome holiday without Mole and Hedgehog (where we re-lived our childfree days which was fantastic), we’ve got a new car that doesn’t breakdown, I’ve been away for a day on a photography class which reminded me what it is like to be a student (in a good way), and Mr M&H hasn’t pulled a stunt like that again.
So… the ups and downs of family / marital life continue, but things in general do seem to be a little easier / less intense than I remember that weekend being. It’s progress!
Now I just need to plot that weekend escape.