Recently I was showing Husband some high heeled boots I had bought to go with my smart new coat and I asked him what he thought of them. He said he liked them and I looked great but then asked, somewhat resentfully, why I never dressed up like that for him. I responded rather tartly that he never took me anywhere where I could wear clothes like that. He didn’t like that answer and was annoyed with me. I was also rather annoyed with him and we glared at each other for a bit, then ignored each other, and after about ten minutes we settled down and were back to normal, chasing the children back to their places at the dinner table, exchanging news and it was mostly forgotten.
Just a quick few words here before I am forced to pack.
No. Not the exciting kind of packing where I get to fill a suitcase with high heeled shoes, cosmetics, dual-voltage hair wrangling devices, foundation garments which will do extraordinary, gravity-defying things to my bosom and assorted impractical shiny things.
That kind of packing will happen NEXT Friday before I go to London.
It’s doubtful I’ll be taking the time to write about that because I’ll be in the midst of an ecstatic frenzy with everything I own strewn about the house, some of it upon my person, some of it on the bed, some of it, no doubt, upon Two’s person. He loves to put bras on his head and say
“Look Mummy ! I got TWO hats!”
Husband’s irritation will grow in direct proportion to my inability to do anything in what he perceives to be a logical progression. However, there will be method to my madness and by the time I leave everything will be in perfect order and I will have both of my giant suitcases packed (one taken up entirely with shoes), and each shall weigh exactly 50lbs (the limit per piece allowed by my carrier). Although I will only actually wear a tiny proportion of the contents while I am away – I often get sort of attached to one thing as if it were a teddy – I will draw enormous comfort from the fact that I have it all with me.
Today, however, I am packing, or rather avoiding packing, for a weekend of ‘luxury camping’ that Husband has booked us into at a ‘resort’ about twenty miles from here. One of his protogees is getting married at this place and many of the guests have opted to rent the little log cabins or ‘luxury safari tents’ for a full weekend of celebrations. Thank GOD he had the foresight not to try to put all four of us into a tent in November, but the cabin is already quite a stretch for me.
It will probably be fun.
Probably.
Or it would be if I had a better attitude.
Unfortunately I have raging PMT and an impending migraine so I’m trying very hard to find my better attitude but it appears to have gone walkies.
I’m nervous that it will be cold, noisy from other guests who don’t have children and will be therefore staying up late drinking (as I would be if I were them), the children will get up at the crack of dawn and want to be entertained which means GOING OUTSIDE where there are other people before I am ready to face the world.
Did I mention I have raging PMT and an impending migraine?
Where is my better attitude? FUCK IT! It’s JUST GONE!
The wedding is actually on Saturday late afternoon. It’s Friday now and I will have to stay there for two days.
TWO DAYS!
That is a long time to be not only “camping” but being social with fellow wedding guests.
The only bright spots are that the place has Wi Fi and also that Five has a birthday party to attend back in town so I can drive her back, drop her off and sneak home for a shower and get my clothes for the actual wedding.
Which stipulates wearing ‘casual clothes and sturdy shoes’
Shoot me now.
The thing is that, for him, this is really fun! Maybe even too high end! He LOVES roughing it! He adores camping. If he had his druthers we’d actually be pitching tents, not showering for days, probably hiking 20 miles to the campsite over a snowcapped mountain and sleeping in a hut with 50 strangers (I shit you not – that is his idea of heaven). When I first met him I really, honestly did try to like that sort of thing, much to the hilarity of all my friends and family. I didn’t even own a pair of shoes that weren’t high heeled and I was not known for my love of the great outdoors unless it came with a tea garden and cake attached, but I gamely had a go because I loved him. I did sort of like camping when he did all the work and I did all the drinking and spliff smoking. But after we had kids all of the outdoorsy stuff abruptly lost its charm. Now all I want to do is go back to the city, have hot showers, fluffy towels, room service, lie-ins and nice clothes.
He hates all that. He finds it cloying and caging. He wants to be free and wild. So that’s good, he can do it with the children, I say.
However, there IS the point that in just over a week I’m going to leave him and them for twelve days, which is the longest I’ve left the children EVER. Perhaps I should suck up two days at a luxury log cabin because he’s so excited about it and really wants to go. Could it be that I’m being a complete COW and really, it’s not that hard to put on a smile and be gracious, even if it’s not exactly what I want to do? I don’t recall any invitations to superior events this weekend, actually (well none that I could actually get to, thanks anyway Twitterers) It’s even got a fridge, a cooker and Wi Fi and Husband said he’d bring out the kettle and some teabags and let me lie in tomorrow because he knows I’m getting a migraine. (starting to cringe a bit here at massive self absorbtion, ugh)
Hey, wait? Is that my better attitude coming back?
Thank GOD for that. The whole family needs you.
{ 10 comments }
Two things: eye mask & ear plugs. LLGxx
Ooh! Glamping!
I’m not a bit fan of the outdoors since having to endure Brownie camp when I was 7.
Fortunately, you won’t have to dig latrines or do washing up in a bowl or eat food (sausages or bananas with chocolate) cooked in tin foil on glowing embers.
It’ll be a great preamble to your sojourn in London.
It’s really not that bad is it? 😉
LBB x
I once stayed a week on a caravan site (what’s the American equivalent? Camper site?) and that was close enough to camping for me. Communal showers! Communal toilets! (Which required a torch and a muddy path to find). Trying to run a tiny B&W portable TV off a car battery. Your log cabin sounds like a five star resort by comparison.
My idea of a vacation however long involves hot and cold running waiters…
.It will be fine. Just take plenty of Gin! x
I find the best way to get through this sort of crap (i.e. doing stuff like spending time with Husband’s extended family in close quarters for more than a couple of days) is to pretend to enjoy it. And quite often – before I know it – I actually am. In a cynical, how the hell did I get HERE way, but still, enjoying it.
Maybe I should leave this comment anonymously so it can never be found…
youre going to have an amazing time in London- well-deserved.
i just love Two, i want to hug him.
It’s a cabin woman, not a cave! and it sounds a whole lot more luxurious than my house. The having to make nice to other people bit though…urgh, that sends a shudder down my spine.
Yay for the better attitude. May it stay, it does make life easier.
I’m famous for hissing at my husband that I would only go camping if it didn’t rain. As the heavens opened in a sodden New Forest and I said ‘I told you so’, he knew we were in for a loong weekend. In my defence we did have a 9 week old with us. The story has lived on in family history.
What got me the most was his mother with that certain smile, saying ‘is that the first time you’ve been camping dear?’. Smile back, right arm back and wallop. Sadly only in my mind.
I’m not a happy camper either – been camping with my husband about three times and it has always rained. One time our tent nearly blew away. He loves it, having grown up with every holiday spent in a tent (whereas I was spoiled at five star hotels in Asia). At least you will be in a cabin and not having to squat in a muddy field when you need a pee in the night. Hope the migraine is kept at bay and the other guests aren’t too noisy/annoying. And make sure you give us a full description next week…..
Jeez, you sound really pissed. I think you should stay positive because it is not the Amazon but a goddamn cabin with running water and other amenities. While you may cringe at the thought, let me tell you, you will come back and write us a post about how much you enjoyed the time there by looking at your children run through the forest, smelling the fresh pine air, and (maybe) even meeting another cringing mother with whom you shared stories of awfulness.
The good thing about this kind of camping is that it gives you the amenities of your home, but the wonderful things of being outdoors.
So, stop bitching and look at the fun side, you will love it
P.S. Life does not always have to be on high heels to be enjoyable…even though for some, this might be the case (winking at you)
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