FOR the past three weeks I’ve been saying I’d start packing for our holiday. I thought it would be best to get little bits done each day so it wouldn’t end up being a rush a few days before we went.
I don’t think anyone will be surprised when I say this didn’t happen. I didn’t get the suitcase from my parents’ house until last night, and our bedroom is now scattered with clothes in piles of definitely coming, maybe coming, and coming if I can be bothered to iron it.
No need to panic as we had today to sort ourselves out. Stew’s working a night shift so was home until 4.30pm and Santi would be with Stew’s mother. So with four days until we jet off we planned to get everything packed, the car hire booked and last minute things ordered online. We all know I love a bit of googling, and I’d checked out what to pack for a holiday with a baby, what to take on a plane for a toddler, and all sorts of other lists when I could actually have been packing.
Of course the best laid plans go to waste (or something like that), and Stew’s mother called last night to say she couldn’t pick Santi up as her car was going to the garage. That was fine, Stew would take him there, stay for an hour or so then leave him and we’d pick him up later.
Here (through the medium of text message) is how the morning really panned out…
Stew (about 20 minutes after leaving the house): I won’t leave Santi here, I think my mum has to try to sort out her car and stuff. Won’t be too long.
Me: Ok. I’m making lists. Just phoned the airport to order formula etc, have to give seven days notice which I didn’t realise. Damn it.
Stew: If you want, send me the list of thins we need to buy, I’ll take Santi to the shop to get them then is it? Means hopefully more peace in house while you do stuff there.
Me: I’ve ordered 30 nappies for Ezra and 19 for Santi to pick up at the airport. Too late for them to get formula in now.
(All going well so far …)
Stew: What can I get in the shop? Santi already wants to leave.
Me: Let him choose his snacks? That’ll entertain him. Possibly a reusable swim nappy if they have any. Child safe mosquito repellent. Or I can order that online. I’m feeding Ezra again so not getting anything done.
Stew: At least Santi is nursery tomorrow so we can get stuff done. (Horrible parents)
Me: A bottle of that squeezy squash stuff would be good (really following the train of conversation)
Stew: Cool. I’ll be leaving here soon, by 10:30.
(And this is where it all falls apart as Ezra, who was falling asleep with his milk, suddenly rouses)
Me: Quick, Ezra’s being mega sick
Stew: Ill sick or too much milk sick?
Me: I don’t know. Just sick. There’s loads of it. It keeps coming. (I wasn’t exaggerating, it was a disaster)
Stew: Uh oh…
Me: It’s everywhere. I’m covered, Ezra’s covered, the settee’s covered, Boofle’s covered
Stew: Uch a fi. We’ll have to put him in with the white wash.
Me: I think it’s frowned upon to put babies in the washing machine, but it might be the only option. It’s that bad. (He meant Boofle, don’t send the police round)
(with photo evidence)
Stew: *laughing crying emojis* We’ll head back now. Santi wants to see Boofle.
Me: If you need me I’ll be in the shower.
Santi (on their return home): Argghh my Boooooofuuuuuuulllllll!!!!
And that, my friends, is how we got nothing done today. Two incredibly cute boys on offer for a few hours while we pack … Any takers?