However, it transpires that I missed my husband an awful lot - he did not join us for reasons that will become clear. I also need a Starbucks within daily commute, a good internet connection, a phone signal... oh heavens, what have I become? And what I need most of all is a daily drive that doesn't involve ploughing the Volvo into a hedge every evening while I cope with bickering siblings, an advice-filled father and locals who know the road so well that they can drive down it at about 45 mph either because they know the road so well or don't expect bloody tourists to be crawling around every blind bend.
I can cope with holidays with my father, just about, after all I grew up with them didn't I? Dan did not and would really struggle and as a consequence, so would I. That is just too many bridges to build. Dan's idea of a holiday is to do well ... very little. He likes to watch television, play and preferably complete a number of boxed sets and a video game. This takes time, sometimes nights without sleep. When we do go away, he still likes to take things easy. We're on holiday after all, there is no rush. He likes to have a big breakfast, and then a sit down. My father, on the other hand, thinks that holidays are for doing things in. If we're not out of the house by eleven, he starts to pace, or build a gazebo. I recognise that I also have inherited this impatience and as a consequence we now travel separately to weddings and museums.
After day 4 or 5 however, I started to relax a little. I became almost used to the routine, having a coffee made for me as soon as we got in, having help putting the children to bed (although I was still needed for stories), opening a bottle of wine before dinner. Why can't I do this more often? I wondered to myself, before remembering that when I get home from work, I race to cook dinner before bedtime, so I can start work again. That explains the lack of wine. I don't even want to think about the "s" word, I'm already having panic attacks.
I then remembered that my mum had always (sort of ) had that opportunity through most of my childhood. She was a stay-at-home mum for much of that time. I don't like to admit that I would now like to stay at home. I do not want to go to work. But I can't help it now. We're on the mortgage treadmill, or is it the huge debt treadmill? Then I remember that that is also why I wanted to work. I wanted my children to have all the things that I thought I was missing out on when I was younger. There are some things I cannot balance.
Oh well, I'm opening another bottle of wine, there are still a few days left.
