Monday, 23 May 2011

I am forced to streak in the garden, forced.

So the world didn’t end on Saturday, second time we’ve been let down. Or maybe it actually did, and this is a brand new one, exactly the same, and we have had our minds brainwashed and have no memory of the world’s end. Maybe. Anyway, whatever, I survived! And so did you, and my blog (and the fooking chickens) so I am happy (enough).

disclaimer: Not an actual picture of Alex's Nan...

We went away this weekend. Alex’s Nan and her sister (92-years-old and 82-years-old respectively) flew out to France on their own to see us! Alex’s parents have a mobile home further north in France, roughly 5 hours from us, and they spend 6 months a year there, 6 months in England. So Nan and Aunty Bet have come to stay with her and see us. The kids were stars, Nan and Aunty Bet were blown away by how independent and self sufficient Esmie was-yes, I reason, although I doubt it has much to do with the fact that she is extraordinarily advanced, rather more to do with my mothering skills, she has learned independence, because if she didn’t get herself dressed/do up her own buttons/put her own shoes on/read herself her bedtime stories, then she’d be constantly going round unbuttoned, or worse naked, bare foot and unread to. We managed to get through it without toddlers swearing, and no old women got taken out either, so in my eyes, this is always gonna be a successful trip. However just before I left I decided that as we would be gone for a night, I’d like to give the House the best possible chance of smelling habitable for humans, rather than habitable for animals. I lit an insense stick, locked up and left. Shortly after arriving I realise what I just did. I may as well have lit a match, chucked it in the house and shut the door on it. As if one does that? Lights insense sticks, actually leaves something burning in their house when they leave for the weekend? Me, obviously. I spent the whole time we were there having visions of coming home to ashes where the house once stood, and on entering the street, my heart starts racing, convinced I can smell a cross between BBQ cat and chicken wafting down the road, as we get closer, I think quickly, how to get out of this? I know, and I cover my eyes with my hands so noone can see me anymore, well it works for kids. When I look up, the house is there, not burned to a cinder. Someone’s on my side this week, I have not had to start it having burned downed my own house, which is always a positive.

A strange thing I noticed this weekend-not the strangest thing by a long chalk (by a long chalk? By a LONG, CHALK..? A long one…OK. Point made), but my nail varnish has not chipped. Fascinating. But bear with me-the bigger picture-here it is. A night away meant I had less skivvy jobs to fulfil, and no floors to mop! So I now realise, were I not a mother, I would be stunning-absolutely drop dead GORGEOUS, a veritable Helen of Troy, Angelina Jolie, Alice Cooper (? Now she’s getting  more realistic)…I could sport fashionable heels, have rouged lips (not nivea smeared under my nose making me look like I snort drugs for breakfast), unchipped nail varnish, no bags resembling the Titanic’s safety rings, and above all, absolutely no crippling dire need for Botox. Just think! But then, you know, there’s that, but it would mean sending my kids back, would you believe me if I said I had a lump in my throat saying that? No? Oh, because you actually saw me crack my head on the floor, falling off my seat over-zealously wooping.

Last night, after getting back late from the long drive, I am forced to streak in the garden, forced. There was no conscious decision in it, the heavens, out of nowhere, opened, and the suitcase full of clothes was outside the garage, the lawn mower still on the lawn, I have just had a bath and have to rectify this, there was no choice, a towel would just slow me down, half bent over trying to keep it concealing my ‘bits’. So I go without, we are fairly isolated where we live, I would not practice this type of behaviour if we lived in a built up area, for example, so if you did happen to get an unfortunate glimpse-I am both sorry and utterly mortified, but I hope you understand, I had no choice.

Everyone asleep, including the dog...!
Right I am off to get on with my Monday, after changing the trousers I put on and spilt burning coffee on, the scalding sensation has cooled now, but I am wet, and refuse to start my week going round with inappropriate crotch stains…

Have a good one!

Tamsyn x

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