Are you in there, Honey?

Based on the evidence I have gathered over the past 3 days, I would be very different without my husband.

Does anyone out there at all, bother cooking for one? I have resided for the most part this week, on tortilla chips, the remains of a cake I made last weekend, and some questionable cheese I found in the back of the fridge. Tonight I am opting for take-out, due to the fear I’m developing rickets from malnutrition. Even R looked unimpressed when I offered him cheerios for dinner. (That last part is a joke.. He was totally impressed. Still Joking. )

if I dont have the impetus to cook for one, you can imagine how I feel about cleaning for one. Washing up, wiping down surfaces, laundry… All out the window. My flat looks somewhat like a frat house, one occupied mainly by babies and single women, to explain all the books and toys and glossy magazines.

I havent opened R’s window blind since Monday, because I’m nervous that in the absence of my tall hubby it might snap all the way to the top and make me go get the step ladder to pull it down again. I havent eaten off real plates since he left because why should I have to scrape and clean them? And I’ve pretty much worn my pyjamas under all my clothes this week for the ease of the frequency I’ve been napping. I need a whole new word for how lazy I’ve apparently become.

In addition, in the short space of a few days, I have forgotten how to hold a conversation. Not having anyone above the age of 1 to talk to from 7pm until whenever I happen to cross paths with a bystander, is not good for my people skills. A lady said “excuse me” this morning on my way to work, and as my first adult communication of the day, I took out a headphone and snapped “What?!” Shockingly, she muttered “nevermind…” and hurried away. If perchance you found me via google nice lady who probably needed directions, my apologies, I am tired and grouchy from 3 days of single-mumming.. Mea Culpa, and I hope you found your way.

So there you have it. Without my other half, I am greedy, unhealthy, messy, lazy and rude. Luckily, C is coming back this evening, and I can get back to normal. Somewhere underneath everything, (pjs included) there will be again a wife and mother who makes lovingly prepared nutritious meals (for the most part), keeps her house sparkling (well… ish.), knows how to do basic household chores and can even hold a decent conversation and make people laugh once in a while.

(Here’s that anti feminist voice inside me coming out again…) It just looks like I need a man to make me bother to find her. All I can say is, its a good job I’m not single. After all, with these startling realisations about what I would be like, who would marry me? 😉


Eek, a spider! Will someone call my husband?

Not to stamp all over feminism or anything, but…

The following crises have occured in the past 36 hours since my husband left for his business trip.

Problem #1: We ran out of toilet paper and I have no idea where it is kept.
Solution: I had a really good search, and got R involved also, emptying cupboards and the like, but luckily on moving a pile of clothes in the bathroom, I discovered that C had anticipated the problem and left a spare. Phew. I was about ten mins away from going out to buy more. Fortunately I know where we keep the local Tesco’s.

Problem #2: The changing table has collapsed.
Clarification: Not so much the changing part, which is seemingly fine, (famous last words) but more the drawers part, which have collapsed in onto each other, meaning they all open simultaneously and precariously. I can therefore not access vests, nappy cream, any medicines and most of R’s socks and trousers.
Thus far I have survived on what is in the changing bag, and R has gone to sleep tonight without a vest. It’s warm, I’m not concerned. I will however, need a new solution by the morning when he has no socks or vest to leave the house in. Hrm..

Problem #3: I got a phone call that normally C would deal with.
Clarification: Er.. I hate dealing with things.
Solution: I’m not proud of the fact that my first impulse was to call C in Holland and cry. I’m even less proud that I acted upon it. A compromise was found where I texted a reply and have now turned my phone on silent and hidden it. Why are texts so much less scary than phone calls? However, dealt with by myself. A win in my book.

Problem #4: I’m alone looking after my son.
Clarification: Once again, hats off to single parents (or parents whose spouse travels a lot…) -I dont know how you do it. Just the knowledge that no one is going to come and save you from the frustration of endless whining and looking after, is enough to make even the smallest difficulties a million times worse. My son is such a good boy, and yet 3 days with him by myself? Likely to make me break something.
Solution: Baby Einstein, and OH so many packets of raisins.

So far so good then, I’m practically an independent female.

Oh who am I kidding? Only 1680 minutes until the hubby is back again…

And just to appease all you feminists out there who think I’m taking ‘the cause’ back 50 years.. here’s some billboard grafitti which I found hilarious. (Yes, even though I’m married.)