Thursday morning, we’re still tired from our little day trip, but we’ve decided to go spend the weekend in France so we’re going. The Husband starts the day at the hospital for the usual tests, plus a bone marrow test, and to get the go ahead from his doctors. I start the day by packing, and packing, and packing…. with no end in sight. Since The Husband had a treatment at the hospital at 2pm our plan was to leave at 2.30, so the kids could take their afternoon naps in the car. Ha, ha, ha.
This was our morning: The Husband gets up at seven and goes to the hospital. The kids and I get up at eight and are comatose until 9 anyway so we may as well have slept in. I start organizing stuff. The Husband comes home takes The Boy to daycare and comes back after having stopped at Auchan to buy a luggage rack to mount on the car roof cause there’s no way everything will fit in the car. Amidst much swearing the luggage rack gets mounted and The Husband heads back to Auchan to buy the luggage holder thingy (what is it called??) that goes on the luggage rack. After getting out clothes and other crap for myself and the two kids, piling them on the bed and promptly getting rid of half the stuff cause it won’t fit in the car anyway, I head to Toy Center to get a small travel stroller for The Boy that I had finally accumulated enough points to get for free. The Husband comes home and mounts the luggage thingy. I come home royally pissed because you have to pre-order the free strollers and it takes a month to get it, so I just wasted half an hour.
At this point it’s 2pm (how did that happen??) and The Husband heads back to the hospital, swearing up a storm cause he’s late, and only had a sandwich for lunch. We’ve already fought four times and cancelled the trip twice. The Boy somehow makes it home, but no one remembers how he got there… one of us must have picked him up. At this point I’m running around like a completely psycho dervish cause it’s late, the kids are tired and I have to pack for three people and load the car, and how the f@#k does this luggage thingy work, I can’t get anything in there. Then The Nanny gives me The Girl so she can go pack her stuff, and I promptly loose The Boy. Heart Attack. He was playing in the car, I’m still packing (how is that even possible??!!) I go check on him in the car and he’s gone. So I call, and call, and call…no answer. I freak out. I run upstairs, not there, I run back downstairs, not there, I run back upstairs…. All the while screaming his name. At some point The Nanny comes running and is looking for him too. And I run outside (how would he have gotten out, the gate was locked) and finally we find him… in the car… this whole scene must have taken at most 2 minutes. It felt like two hours, in slow motion. Obviously, I burst into tears… so did The Girl who was in my arms the whole time, experiencing my meltdown in surround sound. The Boy looked at me like I was a complete moron. So I went back to packing. Finally after what felt like an eon I’m done packing. I load up the car. And I realize two things: I forgot to pack all the electronics, like we could leave for four days with no computers, phone chargers, sky card, internet key etc…. and The Husband hasn’t packed a damn thing. So I start packing again. The Husband comes home and yells at me. I tell him he can go to hell, I’m leaving with the kids and he can stay home. And FINALLY at four (almost two hours late) we’re in the car driving to the beach, all five of us, plus enough crap to survive the apocalypse.