So there is life after children...
We piled into the car and went to visit friends in Holland over the weekend. We got home totally exhausted, and vowing never (NEVER) to drive over there again during rush hour. Suffice it to say that Husband's late return home meant we didn’t make the crossing we’d booked, though thankfully he’d had the foresight to expect this and booked a flexible ticket. (So you can teach an old dog new tricks!). However, the fact we didn’t leave home until after we were due to be in the tunnel rather mucked up our timings... Consequently what should have been a 5 ½ hour journey door to door turned into an epic 10 hours. The boys were, unexpectedly, stars throughout. Unlike their parents…
We even made it to a party (I know, a party!) on Friday night; admittedly only as everyone else was leaving due to our hellish journey, but we did get there, which was really the point, I thought. It was held in a cool location in a beach-cafe; so cool in fact that we couldn’t find it. We ended up reaching the beach at entirely the wrong point and yomping – there is no other word for it – crossly along the dunes until we found it 10 minutes later, wet, covered with sand, and barely speaking to each other.
Luckily a couple of glasses of wine much improved our moods, and I was at least able to congratulate myself that I had gone for the boho-chic look (or at least a pale imitation of) so the beach experience didn’t stand out too much. Can’t remember the last time I aspired to any other style actually – at least the snot / chocolate / pasta sauce / dirt is normally disguised by a bit of a pattern or a cardigan I can shed when the evidence of children becomes too glaring...
Speaking of which realised after I dropped the car off for an MOT a couple of days ago that I had a badge of honour on my left shoulder - again. No wonder they treated me with kid gloves – probably expected me to go off on one in a true exhausted woman tantrum if they tried to mess me around. Who, me?
Potty training...
Tuesday 29th August 2006
Potty training was overall a success this weekend; I can’t believe how much easier it is not having to lug around 2 sets of nappies everywhere. Or, it will be once we don’t have to take 2 changes of clothes everywhere for Boy #1 instead. He had only two accidents during the entire weekend; one in the paddling pool at a play park we went to (I did the decent thing and looked the other way, and then in true white trash mother style splashed his legs afterwards), and once on the beach, (likewise) so neither were exactly the end of the world. And after a completely dry day today, he crowned his achievements by having a poo in the potty before bedtime, rather than in his nappy. How proud am I? How sad am I…? However, we may have crossed the foothills but at some point soon we are going to have to face the Everest that is naps and night-time training. Will it never end?
We piled into the car and went to visit friends in Holland over the weekend. We got home totally exhausted, and vowing never (NEVER) to drive over there again during rush hour. Suffice it to say that Husband's late return home meant we didn’t make the crossing we’d booked, though thankfully he’d had the foresight to expect this and booked a flexible ticket. (So you can teach an old dog new tricks!). However, the fact we didn’t leave home until after we were due to be in the tunnel rather mucked up our timings... Consequently what should have been a 5 ½ hour journey door to door turned into an epic 10 hours. The boys were, unexpectedly, stars throughout. Unlike their parents…
We even made it to a party (I know, a party!) on Friday night; admittedly only as everyone else was leaving due to our hellish journey, but we did get there, which was really the point, I thought. It was held in a cool location in a beach-cafe; so cool in fact that we couldn’t find it. We ended up reaching the beach at entirely the wrong point and yomping – there is no other word for it – crossly along the dunes until we found it 10 minutes later, wet, covered with sand, and barely speaking to each other.
Luckily a couple of glasses of wine much improved our moods, and I was at least able to congratulate myself that I had gone for the boho-chic look (or at least a pale imitation of) so the beach experience didn’t stand out too much. Can’t remember the last time I aspired to any other style actually – at least the snot / chocolate / pasta sauce / dirt is normally disguised by a bit of a pattern or a cardigan I can shed when the evidence of children becomes too glaring...
Speaking of which realised after I dropped the car off for an MOT a couple of days ago that I had a badge of honour on my left shoulder - again. No wonder they treated me with kid gloves – probably expected me to go off on one in a true exhausted woman tantrum if they tried to mess me around. Who, me?
Potty training...
Tuesday 29th August 2006
Potty training was overall a success this weekend; I can’t believe how much easier it is not having to lug around 2 sets of nappies everywhere. Or, it will be once we don’t have to take 2 changes of clothes everywhere for Boy #1 instead. He had only two accidents during the entire weekend; one in the paddling pool at a play park we went to (I did the decent thing and looked the other way, and then in true white trash mother style splashed his legs afterwards), and once on the beach, (likewise) so neither were exactly the end of the world. And after a completely dry day today, he crowned his achievements by having a poo in the potty before bedtime, rather than in his nappy. How proud am I? How sad am I…? However, we may have crossed the foothills but at some point soon we are going to have to face the Everest that is naps and night-time training. Will it never end?
Well done, a party! Travelling abroad?
ReplyDeleteAs long as you're all speaking now, you can call it a complete success!!
You cracked me up with the splashing of the legs...I enjoyed that - even tho you might not have....
ReplyDeletehee hee - that was very funny! Thank goodness for the boho look I say (if you can call messy, tangled hair, dirty clothes and a complete lack of makeup the boho look) - a saviour for all mothers!
ReplyDeleteand a party??? In Holland? Gosh it must be cool to live in Europe!
and "yomping" - a most excellent word. I may have to borrow it from you one day.
ReplyDeleteand on the potty training bit - we have JUST got our last boy (of four) out of daytime nappies......We've had seven and a half years of changing nappies!
ReplyDeleteHi Frog,
ReplyDeleteyes, amazingly we are still speaking. Although that may have something to do with the fact that Husband is travelling rather a lot at the moment - and it's true, absence does make the heart grow fonder!
Aims,
it was one of those 'ground swallow me up' moments. And the worst thing is that probably everyone else noticed too, they were just too polite to mention it.
Rebecca,
boho looks are us, I say. And partying in Holland is cool, you're right. But then probably parties everywhere are; I just don't get round to going to that many these days!
Feel free on 'yomping' - not my word in any case, I think the para's coined that one, and finally, 7 1/2 years changing nappies? Am definitely stopping at 2 kids...