I’m heading home from holidays today. I’m telling you just in case you’d like to gather at Sydney Airport with large ‘Welcome Home FOAS!’ banners. It would be a lovely touch. I’m just saying.
Anyway I’m content to leave because it means seeing my son again. Mr Squish couldn’t fly due to doctor’s orders and we couldn’t cancel. So he’s been with his grandparents and I’ve missed him. Terribly. I miss the tiny ball of energy I call son.
But having said that, the last few days were very invigorating. My self-imposed stipulation for all activities was ‘is this something I could do with a baby?’. If the answer was no (and it didn’t involve significant prison time), I did it.
Facial and massage? Tick! Pedicure? Tick! Go to the cinema when I want? Tick! Go on a brewery tour and drink many beers? Tick! Catch taxis easily? Tick! Drink late at a bar? Tick! Eat my body weight in pizza? Tick!
Ok, admittedly that last one can be done with a baby. But it can only be done at leisure without.
Batteries recharged and slightly heavier from all the pizza, I’m now off for delicious cuddles with my little man! Hurry up, plane!
Dammit. I was at the airport with with a banner that read “Welcome Home SOFA!” No wonder we missed each other …
That’s a coincidence because after all that pizza I kind of resemble a sofa.
I love reading that you love your son. It wasn’t that long ago I we were having a beer and you were on an OJ and you were breaking your exciting news (aka up the duff) to me. I do believe that the words “I’m not a maternal person” were uttered at some point. I sat there smiling smugly, thinkin to myself, you just wait and see!!!
Mr Squish is sitting here right now, having what appears to be a very heated debate with his fluffy monkey. I don’t know what they’re saying to each other, but he seems very opinionated on the matter.
He just looked up at me and smiled. Phew! Argument over.
Yeah, I can’t imagine life without him, my little man.