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I'm mid thirties, two smallish children, one delightful husband, one car and one mortgage kinda lady. We left the big smoke some time ago and live in one of the most charming places in England.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

Five men and only 1 is my husband....

the rest are the builders. The consequence of living en famille on a building site... is that you and the builders have a slightly different relationship.  At 0758 when they arrive, I'm screeching/negotiating/bartering/laughing at the children, whilst simultaneously putting my shoes on / looking for keys and brushing my teeth, as holiday camp, 9 miles away starts at 0815 and we are always running late. I open the door to leave and they start their days work. The first few days after we moved in they used to bring me coffee. That has sadly lapsed now.

I'm then working all morning as they troop past, now making a point of taking off their boots before walking on my new carpet. They are a decent bunch of men (well one is a bit odd, but everyone ignores him) courteous, humorous, honest and helpful, all the traits you look for in a builder. But critically a trait you never look for, but is always present... they are slow. We weren't supposed to be living on a building site.

Some would argue we are only partially doing so, as the upstairs is alright - running water, flushing toilets, shower, lights, but we haven't got a kitchen or any appliances, no electric downstairs and until this week were missing ceilings as well. No kitchen with two children, is a little challenging. Of course middle england peers are rallying round, well those that haven't gone to bloody France, so the munckins are being fed. But when overworked husband has to stay overnight in the big smoke. I realise at 8pm, munckins are asleep and the only dinner I have is half a pack of crisps.

So the days are busy as I have new housemates...I'm trying to resist the Alicia Keys New York singathon, their choice of radio station means this is played approx every 2 hours 43 mins. The offer of lunch from the chicken shop is still not whetting my appetite and the explanation for the continual absence of the electrician is starting to get a little far fetched. The guy can hardly have any friends left, he has been to that many funerals recently.

Then at 4pm they go. Suddenly I feel abandoned on my building site. Where are my housemates...everything is so quiet and I can't decide if that is better or worse. At least when they are here something must be happening. So for the next 15 hours I'm just back to living with 1 man...and tonight he has stayed in the big smoke... rock on 0758!

Monday, 8 August 2011

Moving Day

Overworked husband at work, munckins on holiday with grandparents. Just me and the removal men. Feeling scared and sick all at once.

Oh and we are moving to an only partially finished house. Oh and overworked husband won't be back till Thurs....


Monday, 1 August 2011

A birthday clash...

We could have chosen any day for the birth of youngest. Not my choice, to have a c- section, but faced with even a slim chance of incontinence for life, the doctors opinion on natural birth for me, it was a fairly simple decision. So we had the surreal experience, of planning our youngest's birth date to the hour, let alone the day. Now the week we we given, overworked husband already had his birthday, one he's had for a while but time  stood for nothing as he very gracefully let youngest take the day before his birthday as hers.

For me this is now, four years later, an absolute pain; it is beyond even my organisational gift foraging skills. The reality kicked in ...overworked husband got a pair of kitchen scissors as his main present from his children and wife. But, to be fair, he is always looking for a pair so I thought it would be good to have his own. He didn't really see it like that either. Maybe we could have overcome that disappointment had I had time to take the munckins to the shops to choose a card. He could have then savoured his six years olds sweet message of love and adoration...  but we ran out of time and my spare card went to the eldest to give to the youngest, so not even a hand written card for Daddy to treasure.

I know it is not good, but it gets worse. Faced with moving to the building site in 2 weeks, sorry new house, we had to paint. Overworked husband was on the first shift starting at 0700 (his choice) he then got stuck in a B&Q car park for 2 hours, he then got a puncture and then so overworked as he is, he had to go to the office and work. We haven't seen him since...36 hours later...

The worst thing is I didn't forget, I just didn't have time to coordinate two inspirational gifting opportunities. I'm thinking the only way forward is to move overworked husbands birthday to the middle of winter, maybe I shouldn't tell him and then we could all surprise him with a party and cake in January. Random but at least he'd get his cake...and eat it.

On the plus side youngest had a great birthday she'd definitely be up for another one in winter!