This Busy Mama is taking a ‘break’ *.
*a word only a childless idiot would use to describe a family holiday with three young children.
After a whirlwind few months and a busy few weeks juggling the three kiddos while himself has been away, we’re off on our little family holiday. We’re going far enough to have an adventure, but not that far that too much maniacal organisation is needed.
In my dreams…
..the children will learn to sleep in, sort out their own arguments, make breakfast and not whinge,
..the baby will come back tummy-time olympian,
..having hubby will half the work,
..I’ll stop grinding my teeth in my sleep and realise our stressful days around Woodie’s arrival are over,
..there will be nice food that I don’t have to cook,
..there will be a few afternoon naps with my little Squish,
..I’m so organised that packing up and getting out the door will be easy,
..the weather will be lovely and warm but not too hot and definitely not rainy,
..the wine will be cool,
..my togs will fit.
..the only new skill the children will learn will be something annoying – like the ability to repeat everything I say,
..the baby will still hate tummytime but not for want of me trying to convince him otherwise,
..hubby will excel at specific tasks like building empires of lego / sand castles / tree houses – often long after the children have lost interest,
..I am going to take time out with my subconscious warrior / worrier Mama brain and promise myself our bubba is fine, just fine,
..I’ll happily do a little cooking once there’s a fair share of meals handed to me, by anyone,
..there will be a few afternoon naps with my little Squish – and probably everyone else,
..I’ll get them all out the door and be well on the road when I realise I forget a somewhat essential item – like my knickers,
..the weather may be dodgy but thanks to Peppa Pig even puddles are entertaining,
..I’ll not really care what temperature the wine is at,
..my 2008 togs may sit a little differently but goddam it they will fit.
And with that I’m off.
Image sourced from www.guardian.com