Are we halfway there yet? This week saw the longest day so I’m assuming that it’s all downhill from here. Although that means I have less than six months to achieve my aims for this year so I’d better get a wriggle on!
This week started wonderfully well: the sun shone all day, making it so easy for me to occupy The Girls whilst Daddy was tucked up in the Man Cave, popping out every now and again for air and a Diet Coke. To be fair, after the World’s Most Frenetic Birthday Party the day before, we all wandered around the house like zombies and were happy to just be. But when the air had cooled, we piled into the car with the dog, calling via our local Chinese restaurant and went to the woods for a take-out picnic to celebrate Father’s Day with the Man of the House. It was a really precious family hour which I know that he will cherish for a long time.
Monday morning brought confusion. Our alarm went and we all slept through. The Girls’ alarm went and we carried on sleeping. Then, suddenly, at 7.50am, I remembered that LBG needed to be in school (she doesn’t usually go on a Monday) for a Library Trip so we had a fairly frantic 20 minutes getting ready and dashing to school. Suddenly I was without her all day and I couldn’t help feel something was missing. There was a bright spot though: delivery of my gorgeous Vintage Mix cabinet and a cup of tea with Granny when she came on her weekly visit.
I still felt panic when the alarm went off on Tuesday morning though. There was no cooking because we were waiting in for the lovely BT team to install a new telephone line direct into DH’s Man Cave. I may refer to it as the Bat Phone from now on, just to amuse myself.
And on Wednesday, I found myself walking through the sunshine after dropping my car for a service. Coffee with school mums followed by an hour or so treasure hunting in the Charity Shops really improved my current state of mind. LBG was delighted with the new sandals I bought her, as were her friends H & R, who came for tea. In fact they were so engrossed in shoes, and I in catching up with their mum, that it was only the Au-Pair asking that reminded me I had yet to pick up Dimples. It’s the closest I think I’ve ever come to forgetting a child.
The unsettled feelings continued on Thursday, when a late-running taxi made our school run a mad dash: boy was I glad to finally get the car back. And after that I worked on a few projects, some laundry and cake making in the quiet of the house, trying to settle myself. LBG had a friend home from school so was well occupied, though a little hyper, and Dimples delighted (sarcasm) me by staying up late chatting whilst her sister crashed beside her. She needed a poo. Such is parenthood. Once done, though, she was asleep in moments on the sofa next to me whilst I watched Battle of the Brides and waited for DH’s late return.
And Friday came, though I couldn’t be entirely confident of the day without checking my laptop. I packed, I made lunch, I went slightly mad double-checking things. I took The Girls to ballet and brought them home, where Dimples donned her ‘polar bears’- her favourite fleece all-in-one-sleepsuit is pink and covered in polar bears, hence the name- and hit the road towards Folkestone where we joined the Magic Train (Eurotunnel) and headed to Bruges for the weekend on a House Swap. Only three and a half hours door to door and it felt like a different world. We arrived early enough to enjoy the evening sunshine, and drink beer in the garden whilst The Girls bounced on the trampoline.
My girls know two things about Belgium: that it is home to waffles and chips. And so on Saturday we went looking for them both. We ate waffle with cream on the terrace across from City Hall, watching an endless procession of brides go in to be married. We ate frites later in the day, after our boat tour on the canals of Bruges, in the basement of the Museum of Frites (NOT a joke), and we even squeezed in a few chocolates. We were all so tired we could barely lift our forks at supper time.