Only two days left until #1 Hubby returns from his annual company
piss up conference.
I don’t begrudged his alcohol fuelled freebie trips. And the only time he should be worried, is if they go to Vegas, Bali or Thailand. I will not miss out on gambling, or cheap cocktails and shopping in tropical climates.
This time they went to Bali, and I missed out. I am spewing beyond teenage totally spewing standards.
You see, the #1 Grandparents had
stupidly offered to watch the feral threesome, so I could join #1 Hubby in Bali after his work conference, for a few days of child-free bliss.
While I hold no misconception that they’d be able to cope with the feral threesome for longer than 3 hours, let alone 4 or 5 days, I was all shit yeah! Let’s do it!
Because Miss5's survival instincts would kick in if required, and Miss2 is bossy and tyranty enough to handle the disciplining if things got wild and crazy and out of hand. Mstr2 is still a Mama’s boy, so he would easily be cowering in the corner in a state of submission after just a few stern words from his sisters.
Basically, I was confident the kids could handle things, as long as the #1 Grandparents managed the issuing of food and water.
Except, it didn’t work out that way. The #1 Grandparents double-booked themselves. They were already booked on yet another holiday, along with #1 Brother from next door.
So, in short, all of them were to be in tropical locations while I was at home solo-parenting. Bunch of selfish wankers.
Although, in all fairness, #1 Brother wasn't really a babysitting option, as he has threatened to electrify his front door if my kids keep going next door to his place. And while he has agreed to babysit in the past, it's only on the rarest of occasions, and only if they are all asleep in their rooms and they promise not to wake up, make any noise, attempt to touch him, or crap. Because he doesn’t do other peoples’ bodily functions. Period.
So #1 Hubby tried to hide his delight and relief that I wouldn’t be cramping his style. Puh-lease…I would’ve been too busy getting hammered in the pool, sleeping, or shopping. But mostly getting hammered in the pool to aide in the sleeping. Because I can go shopping even with the kids, but getting hammered in a pool and sleeping it off is a bit difficult to do with 3 kids under the age of 6.
I know, I know – I’m such a winner as a parent, right?
Following this devastating news (about the cancelled trip plans, not my winning parenting strategies), #1 Brother and I drowned our sorrows and came up with a genius plan that would mean #1 Hubby came home from his trip in time to take over with the kids and farewell me as I flew over to Vietnam – to surprise the #1 Grandparents. Because in making it a surprise for them, it makes it totally selfless on my part.
I'm a giver.
So when I told #1 Hubby of this plan, I made sure to ply him with enough liquor to totally cloud his judgement. And I made sure the kids weren’t around to provide him with any reason not to agree to solo-parent them for a fortnight.
TWO WHOLE WEEKS
NO #1 HUBBY / 4TH CHILD
In just 5 days I’m hopping a flight to Kuala Lumpur – without a child to wrangle or a husband to shove and nudge for maximum arm rest access. I’m going to be toting a handbag as my carry on baggage. And that’s it. Nothing else. No mega collection of food and toys to occupy kids. I may even take a book with genuine intent to read it, and not just use it to hide myself behind to avoid eye contact with my family.
Then I’m going to enjoy a leisurely overnight stay in KL – in my very own hotel room. A room that will not require child-proofing or porta cots and roll away beds. I will not order spaghetti Bolognese or chicken nuggets via room service. Well, not unless it’s 2am and I’m jonesing for some greasy goodness after hitting the hotel bar.
Then I will sleep uninterrupted, sharing the bed with nary a soul. No farting, snoring, tossing or turning. No whining, crying or grizzling. And no early morning slap across the nose, followed by insane giggling and a wet finger being shoved in my mouth – as is Mstr2’s customary wake up notification when sharing a room with you.
As for Vietnam, well I don’t need a plan. I don’t need to ensure there are activities organised to keep little people occupied, or that there is a fast food outlet handy in case of restaurants failing to cater for the discerning tastes of a pair of toddlers. I can stay in the hotel and do nothing, I can go out all day and wander around without worrying about nap times. Unless I’m feeling sleepy, of course. And I can go to dinner whenever I feel like it – not before the kids turn to cannibalism. Basically, I can go to dinner when it’s dark, at night, when the grown ups come out to play.
I know you’re all totally happy for me and really psyched about my trip. Thank you for that.
But, rather than bore you with tales of my cocktail fuelled nights – and no doubt, choicely worded blog posts after said cocktails – I’ve scheduled blog posts for the duration.
Here’s hoping my technologically challenged self has managed that correctly and you’re not bombarded with all posts on the one day.
|I'm gonna party like Britney, bitches!|