So I woke up at 11:32am; a new record for a Sunday with the kids. The usual "how much sleep can a person have?!"..."why aren't you up with the kids?" questions hang in the air, unasked but implied with a look.
Firstly, understand that they're not my kids. I am the live-in girlfriend of a man with 2 kids from a finished marriage. We have them Tuesdays, Thursdays and every other weekend. I've been with my man for just over 2 years, we've lived together for 1 and half of these years. I've never (and still don't!) wanted kids. I never envisaged falling in love with someone who already had kids. It's not something I recommend and if I had my chance again, I'd probably fight it.
It's hard. It's complicated. And everything changes beyond comprehension and expectation.
So anyway, it's the weekend with the kids and I'm in my bedroom typing and watching TV, while the kids are taking over the living room. The flat looks like a pig-sty, like it usually does after a weekend with the kids. I used to clean up throughout the day but learned that there really is no point as the mess just comes again. I'm hungover, I'm suffering from whiplash following a minor car accident in the week, and I need a bath, a self-pamper and some healthy food.
My Man is taking the kids swimming, so a bath beckons. I've got a box full of 'bath treats' like candles, facemasks, oils etc. I keep these for moments like this, when I need a bit of self-help. I'm counting the minutes until everyone goes out so I can divulge.
I miss alone-time. Well, more the the point, I miss alone-time that I don't have to justify.
Only the girlfriend of a man with kids, can understand my previous sentence.
So a Sunday to myself. A Sunday when the flat is empty. A Sunday looking after me.
And then, in ten seconds, it all goes awry. It turns out that My Man is not taking the kids swimming. My Man is taking boy child to the shop and leaving girl child with me. Girl child is watching TV in the living room (as well as reading and listening to her iPod) so I will remain in my bedroom. All of a sudden my plans are over. There will be no box of bath treats. There will be no self-pampering. A raincheck on this.
All of a sudden I want no part in healthy eating. I want wine. Preferably a large glass.
I guess I'll tidy my room and clean the bathroom. And maybe do some laundry. And cook some food.
Sundays are not what they used to be.
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