So we've been home for a few days now, and after five loads of laundry, three trips to the shops for food and rather a large number of cups of tea, I'm in need of a holiday....
On the last Monday of our holiday, BigBear started to complain that his feet were hurting. We weren't entirely sure why they were hurting, and it was in an inexplicable area - round the back of his heel. By Tuesday he was barely able to walk, his feet were red and inflamed, and sunburn suddenly became the obvious answer. On the plus side, his sinus/ear/nose infection seemed to have mostly gone. Unfortunately, Tuesday was the day we'd arranged our Completely Awesome Day Out, so despite his reservations, and limping, BigBear spent the day out and about and on his feet. (Our Completely Awesome Day Out was a ferry to Lanzarote, a bus ride to the another village and then.... a submarine ride! I might write about it all later, but it's not really the point here.)
On Wednesday we had to pack up to fly home. BigBear was almost literally unable to walk, reduced to crawling at times. His feet were agony. But we had two 20kg suitcases, three pieces of hand luggage and a small boy to wrangle. I did my best, but even SuperBear is unable to physically manhandle all of that. Somehow, and it's no longer clear how, we did get home, despite the Highways' Agency's best efforts to prevent us, by having overnight road closures on every single road we wanted to use. My poor LittleBear only got to sleep (in the car) just before 10pm. I'd had to carry him for large stretches of the escape from Gatwick Airport, which has done my back the world of good.
On Thursday, I had to wake LittleBear and inform him it was time to get up and go to nursery, and then console an exhausted and sobbing small boy that nursery wasn't actually "the horriblest thing in the whole world." I also had to inform him that no, if I took him to nursery it wouldn't be "weeks" before I came back to get him, and that no, 5pm is not "the middle of the night". We left BigBear in bed, even more immobilised than Wednesday, his heels now livid, purple and exuding heat.
Admittedly Friday, Saturday and Sunday have not involved work or nursery. But incapacitated husband, coughing, feverish, miserable boy, agitated, irritating cat and far, far, far too much laundry and housework have featured heavily. And I'm bloody exhausted. Despite the fact that my two bears let me stay in bed until 11:30 this morning (bliss!) I feel as though the world has already piled up at my door and is battering it down.
Can I have a holiday now?
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