I feel stressed. Somebody tell me to stop being a silly woman and relax...oh, that's right, my husband did! Going away should be a small pleasure, shouldn't it? A chance to get away from home - from the domestic chores that mock me all day long. A chance to spend quality time with family who live in another town.A chance to go out for dinner (I am looking forward to that).
So, to go away for only two days, I need to pack my clothes (who would think it'd be so hard?) I wish I had a pair of jeans I could call my favourites, that feel like my tracky dacks,but look nice, so I could just wear them all weekend. Alas...sigh...
I also need to pack for a three year old,and for all the accidents, spills,possible puddles and mud we might encounter. Not to mention making sure that I've packed the clothes that I know he'll wear. Most days there's a total rejection of anything I offer. Granted - it isn't packing for a baby - but it has its own issues.
Then there's the packing of a bit of food. Despite my lovely sister-in-law telling me there's no need to bring anything, with our family's diet - gluten free for the kids, grain free for us, mostly sugar free too- we need a few things we can eat when we get a bit peckish, as a three year old will, about 15 times a day.
And let's not forget that we'll need supplies in the car. Entertainment supplies, cuddly supplies,food and drink,and a thermos for the adults.
So I suppose I should stop procrastinating and just bite the bullet,and pack.
At least scribbling in my blogg has released a little of my tension. Oh and the cup of tea and tiny little macaroon.
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