And.....relax!
So, finally, it's Sunday. The day of rest. And finally, I can. The last couple of days have felt like I've been running some kind of marathon. Although actually, it was more like a game of catch-up. Don't let anyone tell you that sleepovers are easy!
Big kid, and Kid-in-the-middle were both born in September. Yes, I know. The-Man-I-Married only gets sex at Christmas. We've heard that joke before. (Kid-the-youngest disproves the theory. She must have been the result of too much self-medication at Halloween.) All of which means that this month, as well as our wedding anniversary, my parents' wedding anniversary, and sundry other relatives' wedding anniversaries, we have two birthdays to contend with.
Big kid turns 11 in a week or so, Kid-in-the-middle was 9 last week. Both wanted sleepovers in the tent in the garden. It seemed logical to do them both on the same weekend. Pah to logical says I. And never again.
It isn't the camping thing that's the issue. My lovely new tent goes up in around half an hour and is the envy of all who sail in her. Camping is my new best favourite thing. No, it's the organisation, the shopping, the baking, the decorating, the the thinking up games, the remembering cake candles, the last minute, "Did you get charcoal?" and the frantic re-cleaning of the house between parties and my stupid assertion to the lady at church that "Sure, I can do the flowers this week...I've not got much on", that have knocked this idea into Hades as far as I'm concerned.
Having said all that, don't listen to me. We've had a blast. Kid-in-the-middle had her party first: three friends, pinata, treasure hunt, pass the parcel, talent show, tacos and burritos, toasting marshmallows, birthday cake, DVDs and popcorn in the tent, chattering till 1am. Frightening themselves silly and de-camping to the house at 1.30am. More chattering till 3am, and up with the sparrows at 6.30am.
Then we did it all again. Only this time, apparently 11 year olds are too cool for school and didn't want pass the parcel. But they did want a treasure hunt and a pinata! And a BBQ, toasting marshmallows, birthday cake, DVDs and popcorn and chatting till 3 am. Thankfully, they managed the latter part without any help from me and I scooted off to bed early with the beginnings of a cold to keep me company.
Diet-wise, it could have been worse. It could have been better, but it could have been worse. I stuffed my burritos with more salad than sour cream and I had BBQ chicken not hot dogs. And more salad. But there were two birthday cakes to dispose of, wine was required for sanity purposes on Friday (one bottle over the whole weekend - The-man-I-married couldn't have any because he was dosed up on Tramadol following an emergency tooth extraction on Friday afternoon. He came home, way later than promised, looking like someone had punched his lights out, blood oozing from the side of his mouth, unable to talk. Halloween's next month matey!)
And now, finally, it's Sunday morning. The coffee pot is sizzling away, the cold I mentioned has burgeoned into a full-on snot-fest, there's chattering from the tent in the garden, but really, there's nothing for me to do. Well, nothing that needs doing right this minute anyway. I'm giving church a miss this morning....my only real prayer is that the flowers I flung together yesterday afternoon are still upright and that The-man-I-married is fit enough to go out and buy some Olbas Oil. Apart from that....nada. We've even got leftovers for lunch.
Today I'm wearing
Pyjamas mostly.
So, finally, it's Sunday. The day of rest. And finally, I can. The last couple of days have felt like I've been running some kind of marathon. Although actually, it was more like a game of catch-up. Don't let anyone tell you that sleepovers are easy!
Big kid, and Kid-in-the-middle were both born in September. Yes, I know. The-Man-I-Married only gets sex at Christmas. We've heard that joke before. (Kid-the-youngest disproves the theory. She must have been the result of too much self-medication at Halloween.) All of which means that this month, as well as our wedding anniversary, my parents' wedding anniversary, and sundry other relatives' wedding anniversaries, we have two birthdays to contend with.
Big kid turns 11 in a week or so, Kid-in-the-middle was 9 last week. Both wanted sleepovers in the tent in the garden. It seemed logical to do them both on the same weekend. Pah to logical says I. And never again.
It isn't the camping thing that's the issue. My lovely new tent goes up in around half an hour and is the envy of all who sail in her. Camping is my new best favourite thing. No, it's the organisation, the shopping, the baking, the decorating, the the thinking up games, the remembering cake candles, the last minute, "Did you get charcoal?" and the frantic re-cleaning of the house between parties and my stupid assertion to the lady at church that "Sure, I can do the flowers this week...I've not got much on", that have knocked this idea into Hades as far as I'm concerned.
Having said all that, don't listen to me. We've had a blast. Kid-in-the-middle had her party first: three friends, pinata, treasure hunt, pass the parcel, talent show, tacos and burritos, toasting marshmallows, birthday cake, DVDs and popcorn in the tent, chattering till 1am. Frightening themselves silly and de-camping to the house at 1.30am. More chattering till 3am, and up with the sparrows at 6.30am.
Then we did it all again. Only this time, apparently 11 year olds are too cool for school and didn't want pass the parcel. But they did want a treasure hunt and a pinata! And a BBQ, toasting marshmallows, birthday cake, DVDs and popcorn and chatting till 3 am. Thankfully, they managed the latter part without any help from me and I scooted off to bed early with the beginnings of a cold to keep me company.
Diet-wise, it could have been worse. It could have been better, but it could have been worse. I stuffed my burritos with more salad than sour cream and I had BBQ chicken not hot dogs. And more salad. But there were two birthday cakes to dispose of, wine was required for sanity purposes on Friday (one bottle over the whole weekend - The-man-I-married couldn't have any because he was dosed up on Tramadol following an emergency tooth extraction on Friday afternoon. He came home, way later than promised, looking like someone had punched his lights out, blood oozing from the side of his mouth, unable to talk. Halloween's next month matey!)
And now, finally, it's Sunday morning. The coffee pot is sizzling away, the cold I mentioned has burgeoned into a full-on snot-fest, there's chattering from the tent in the garden, but really, there's nothing for me to do. Well, nothing that needs doing right this minute anyway. I'm giving church a miss this morning....my only real prayer is that the flowers I flung together yesterday afternoon are still upright and that The-man-I-married is fit enough to go out and buy some Olbas Oil. Apart from that....nada. We've even got leftovers for lunch.
Today I'm wearing
Pyjamas mostly.
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