|This was my legitimate plan. Seriously.|
Those who've been reading along for a while now will know that I set up a countdown timer at the bottom of my blog, marking how long until the Twin Tornado joined their big sister at school (which was Kindergarten last year).
I started that countdown about 20 months prior to the big day. Such was my excitement and determination to make it to that special moment where I could lovingly shove them across the threshold of a classroom for 2.5 days a week of child-free silence.
Come Monday they finally hit the big time - full time, 5 days a week.
I could shout for joy as I suffer through this last, epic, excruciatingly long week of the excruciatingly long summer school holidays.
The end is near.
The end of one era, the start of another.
An era in which I will lounge around the house watching reality TV, sipping coffee, and strategically placing the vacuum and cleaning products around the house right before #1Hubby gets home from work.
There's also a healthy degree of good parenting intent in there too. I'm convinced I'll be a much better parent when I have 6 hours a day to recover before the next onslaught.
Only it won't be like that.
#1Hubby came home from work and advised me that his company will be moving.
I said I hoped it would be closer to home
so that I don't have to solo parent any longer than is absolutely necessary thanks to traffic jams.
There will be no issue with traffic.
No getting up early and arriving home late thanks to the commute.
#1Hubby will be working from home.
Can I not catch a break?
As soon as I get rid of the little children, the big child returns.
Every single day.
Gone are my plans of ignoring house work while catching up with the Real Housewives of the world.
No lounging around in my PJ's sipping coffee.
Not a hope of claiming fatigue via housework when he arrives home, before limping upstairs to lock myself in the bedroom for a couple of hours.
I am completely devastated.
More devastated than the good parents who are anxious and upset about sending their kids to full time school.
I am prepared to sell a non-vital organ on Craig's List to fund office space for him.
Shit will go down. Way down.
Shit will go down. Way down.
I just know that this will not end well for me....
Oh dear, my worst nightmare....ReplyDelete
Yours and mine. Considering starting a new blog detailing the ways I consider killing him every day that he's working from home. Or screw with him. You know, for when I'm bored and out of ideas to kill him without framing myself. Probably not a good start to write this on the interwebs.Delete
Sometime you just can't catch a break can you !!! If I was at home during the day it would drive me nuts to have A at home with me - good luck !!!!ReplyDelete
Enjoy the quiet time before he starts working from home.
I was supposed to be the one working from home when the kids are finally all at school full time. I feel like this is the universe taking a giant crap on me. Because, you know, it is all about me.Delete
After months of living in short-term housing until our tenants vacated our house (we moved back to the US from the UK) and then 10 long weeks of renovation, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking about how I was going to do absolutely NOTHING for an entire month....and my husband came home to tell me he had been laid off. So he is home, in his office every day. And while he does his own thing, I can no longer make excuses about why I didn't get around to cleaning that day.ReplyDelete
I wish you luck.
It's not fun, but it is possible to fool them by just walking around with a spray bottle and a cloth. You don't have to actively do anything with it, just be sure to jump up from the lounge when you hear them coming ;-)Delete
That like totally blows.ReplyDelete
Feck. How are you for garage space? Partition off a section, make it cosy with a bit of carpet, some curtains and a big padlock so he can't escape and join you on the couch for some Housewives action?ReplyDelete
Oh I wish! The garage aka in home crap storage space is completely full! And without any sort of insulation against heat/cold. Plus the kids would be in there the second they realised he was. No chance of talking to clients without a kid screaming out shed words in the background, which is not totally professional, I think.Delete
That's a cruel twist of fate. What did you ever do to piss off the Gods?ReplyDelete
Wished a nasty and incurable venerable disease on one of the neighbours recently. That must've done it. I still wish them the same, but now with a side of recurring and very obvious facial herpes. Bastards....Delete