- The night before we leave I am packing. Of course I'm packing on the fly. Why would I spend a week coordinating my luggage and making sure I didn't forget anything? It's not like I'm a SAHM. Wait a minute... FFS.
- Lady Pippa refused to sleep this night, so I was packing my bag at 9pm with a baby rolling on the floor sounding like Bobcat Goldthwaite. FFS.
- Eventually I get her to sleep, finish packing and head to bed at 11pm. Lady Pippa awakens at 11.15pm. FFS.
- We get up and rolling in the morning and fly to our destination with no worries. We pick up our hire car and begin the epic trek to the NSW/VIC border. What do you MEAN it's 330km to the border? That's THE END OF MY ISLAND THANKYOUVERYMUCH. FFS.
- We stopped frequently and it took us 6 hours to get there. FFS.
- We all shared a room and it meant that Millie was not fond of sleeping. The first night we battled through, the second and third nights she slept in the middle of our double bed. FFS.
- She got sick on the last night we were there and was snotty and inconsolable on the way home. FFS.
- Pip joined the Illness Party the next day and has been requiring several thousand cuddles per day (No FFS) but isn't enjoying having high fevers and hates taking panadol. She vomits every time we try to give it to her. FFS.
- Millie has taken to being very offended by Pip's crying. She i
s in no way helpfulattempts to console her by patting her and saying 'It's otay Pip, there's no monsters' and when that doesn't work, shouting 'STOP IT PIPPA STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP.' FFS.
- I was feeling very sorry for my girls on Wednesday and my day's thoughts went from:
11am: Oh my poor darlings, maybe I won't go to sewing class tonight. I want to cuddle you all better.
2pm: Dear god, go to sleep Millie. Stay asleep, Pippa.
4pm: Packs bag with latest sewing projects whilst humming a tune to block out the noise.
5pm: WHERE IS MR S? Still humming. Wind up burning the pasta sauce after stopping one child throwing a camping lantern at the other. Mentally balled up in a corner rocking and back and forth.
6pm: Mr S arrives home 'Do you mind if I go to class? No? BYE BYE.'
- Now I am thick headed and snotty. FFS.