Good morning everyone J Back from our mini break and back to reality. We had a wonderful time playing at the beach, the parks, going to Under Water World and drinking plenty of wine in the evenings. I certainly feel like by batteries are recharged, but it wasn’t all smooth sailing...
We were off to a rocky start when on Sunday morning, while I was frantically trying to get packed, entertain the kids and clean the house, Mat decided he just had to fix the spa. The spa has been sitting there in poor working order for 6 months but for some reason, it was imperative that repairs took place on Sunday morning. Car loaded to the roof with luggage, 2 cranky kids, one oblivious Daddy and one frustrated Mummy and we were off on our first ever family holiday.
We arrive, check in, go and buy some groceries then head back to the room. Mat was in so much pain and discomfort (allegedly) from his vasectomy that he just had to sit down with the TV on and do nothing. Seeing as I had run out of “caring” the day before, this behaviour did little for my frustration levels. However, I took a deep breath and carried on, putting Elliott down for a sleep and taking Soph to the beach. The rest of the beautiful afternoon continued without incident and after a few wines with dinner, the frustration of the day faded away. Then came Monday morning...
Elliott had to bunk in our room as his porta-cot was too big to fit in the other bedroom. No biggy, except for the fact he is such a noisy sleeper! Coughing and grunting and snoring and fidgeting all night long meant that come 5am when he woke for a bottle, I was exhausted! I woke Mat after his night of blissful uninterrupted sleep (he somehow tunes out to anything that goes on during the night) and he gave Elliott his bottle. He tried putting Elliott back to bed, but the little guy wouldn’t have a bar of it, so one of us had to get up and get the day started. This is where things went south. I, of course, felt Mat should get up seeing as he had slept in on Friday and Saturday mornings and had been asleep all night. He, of course, thought I should get up because, well, he can be a bit of a selfish arse. He refused to get out of bed, despite my ranting and raving about him being such a selfish curse word curse word curse word. The end result was I got up to the kids and my darling husband went back to sleep!
When he roused several hours later, it was on like Donkey Kong. He rabbited on, amongst other things, that he had had a vasectomy (or as he put it, a f%@#*ng operation) and therefore needed to rest. That was the final straw. I pulled the caesarean card. I didn’t want to have to pull this card, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I explained that I had two MAJOR surgeries, after which I was not able to rest. I likened his procedure as having a grazed knee compared to a severed leg, representative of a caesarean. I walked away (no pun intended) leaving him with this to mull over, which turned out to be the best move. About 10 minutes later, he came and apologised, smoothed things over and made a miraculous recovery. I have not heard any whinging about his vasectomy since and he has been more than able to walk around, play with the kids and move with ease.
So with this argument aside, the holiday was truly wonderful. Far too short, but wonderful all the same. I hope you all had a lovely couple of days too and stay tuned for many of the “Sophieisms” that came about during our mini break. Hilarious!
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