This weekend is a selfish weekend, forgetting any chores and
catching up with those long outstanding tasks … but only if I want to.
LSH is away and that means a duvet kinda time ahead. Think
Brigitte Jones and Chardonnay without Jamie O’Neal in the background. Although
a good guttural rendition of that song would be the perfect prevention to
popping The Notebook into the player and sobbing myself to sleep (it has been
known, but if you've seen The Notebook, d'you know where I'm coming from?).
Of course I’ll have to divert the youngest giant towards the
kitchen to feed himself but it’s going to be a weekend without barriers,
timetables, schedules and guilt (from hogging the telly with suitably female
re-runs and chickflicks).
When the giants were little, weekends like this stretched
out as an expanse of trying to ignore that every other household around me was having warm and fuzzy family fun. A nonsense that was dismissed on
the Monday morning school run! In those days, I aimed for a selfish glass of
red after the end of day bath/story/bed routine.
I would like to add that I’m sharing my anticipated weekend of selfishness with
no hint of smugness. I still remember the aching tiredness and worry that bringing up
cute littles brings. I’ve often thought, if only I could’ve fast forwarded the
life dvd (or previously, video) and then rewound it back to the starting point, safe in
the knowledge that things hadn’t turned out too badly after all (remembering tantrums here).
No; no smugness, just relieved and very aware
that selfish weekends are a long way off for the Mum and Dad’s Taxi Service
weekends, that many of you still have. Which is why I will be aiming to take another step towards appreciating this weekend of my own.
Whatever you are doing though, I hope it’s a good one for you.