I'll admit, I've been crazy jealous. He's messaged me a gazillion photos of all the sorts of shenanigans that I'd like to get up to in Sydney, and it got to a point where I almost replied, Enough with the fucking photos already. You're killing me.
He reminds me that although he's been having a great time, it's been hectic and busy for him to catch up with everyone again.
Am I supposed to feel sorry for him? Because no matter how busy he might be, it can't possibly match the level of craziness that our trip was last year - after two and a half years away. Catching up after only six months? Sans children? It must be nice to wake up each morning and be your own boss. What does that feel like? (In a nice hotel, paid for by one's new employees, no less. With city views.)
I know. Jealous.
In all honesty, though, these last couple of weeks haven't been as difficult as I'd anticipated. Sure, Miss Pie has been outdoing any previous efforts of hers to test my limits, but I suspect it's partly a reaction to her missing J. Cognising that hasn't made my hand itch any less to giver her a slap in some situations, though. I haven't, but sheesh, you know? Trying to climb heavy tall bookcases, deciding she has to take a dump just as we're out the door to take the Faery to school, steadfast refusal to cooperate... well, ever... today, alone, she crapped in her undies three times. One of those times, I found her standing a metre away from the toilet, refusing to sit on it.
Stubborn three-year-old issues aside, I think I'm managing this solo gig okay. As long as I can put my damn iPhone down during the whole dinner-bath-bedtime routine, I am capable of running a pretty tight ship. If I allow myself to get distracted on, say Instagram, though? It's game over for me, and the girls know it. I'm learning.
The main part I struggle with is mornings - just the time between the alarm going off at 6.45am, and getting all three of us out the door by 7.35 (the Faery's school starts at an ungodly hour). I am not a morning person... and it's my own fault. If I'm in bed, with the lights out before midnight, I'm doing well - but it's rare. My 'me' time: watching TV, reading, surfing the net... I find it hard to know when enough is enough. Funnily, whenever I do actually get eight hours sleep, I still want to stay in bed. I just don't like early starts, and never have. Anyhow, once we're out the door, it's all good, and calm descends on me.
I feel super lucky with how much our friends have offered help if I need it. The day after J left, a sweet girlfriend organised a poolside play date so that the girls would be distracted for the day, and not too upset. And after a birthday party for the Faery's best little buddy, her family - who we adore - invited us to stay on for dinner, and insisted on a sending a generous amount of leftover pizza home with us. It was really thoughtful of them, and Miss Pie rewarded them by managing to accidentally get herself locked in their bathroom, and melting down (it had been a long day) while my friend's husband had to dismantle the entire door knob to unlock the door. Awkward.
Last week, I managed to do pretty well in terms of dinner for myself, once the girls were in bed. Early on in the week, I'd made a huge batch of Southwestern chicken soup in the slow cooker - far too much to eat in a few meals, so the freezer is well-stocked now. I also defrosted various batches of healthy leftovers... but this week?
|Excuse the poorly-lit mobile phone shot.|
Leftover pizza, (home-made) mini cheesymite scrolls and hot cross buns - that's about as random an assortment of food as it gets. But hey, last night I remembered to give myself some salad too. That addition means we can call this tapas, right? Especially when wine is involved.
Anyhow, this post is going nowhere, and pretty painfully at that. This is what happens when you have no adult company in the evenings. Just imagine how fascinating this blog - being my sole outlet - will be over the next few months (actually, be very afraid). My point I wanted to make, though, is that I'm doing fine. We are doing fine. These next few months will only be an inconvenience in the big scale of things. I mean, it's not like I'm a military wife and mother, and have to do this regularly, for lengthy periods of time. And there are plenty of women whose husbands frequently travel far and wide for their jobs. My current situation is nothing unique; I just need to keep that perspective in mine if a pity party starts up in my head.
So all in all, things are okay... in case anyone was wondering.