I'm pretty annoyed that yesterday evening, our penultimate Sunday, was ruined by rain. The Henderson Sunday ritual for the past year has been The Merry Men, great beer, chicken wings, kids dinner, ice-cream and a walk along the river. Instead we were forced to take cover at Bar Bar Blacksheep a pub a few doors down, drink horrible tasting beer, eat overpriced tofu vegetable fried rice and watch as the skies opened and the place flooded. I feel like I've cheated on my favourite pub and sad that one of the places I love in Singapore where the staff know my kids names is now just a memory. Sigh. At least one of our family had his fair share of fun. Average toddler today, You Tube sensation tomorrow.
Jumping around naked in muddy puddles. Oh to be a kid again!
Johnny Drama has been quite up and down these past few days. Is it wrong to call your toddler schitzo? Just as I was writing some of this yesterday evening I was thinking how lovely he is sitting on our sofa watching Peppa Pig on the battery (Ipad) and talking to himself about how he has big feet(not sure where he's learnt that) and how much he loves loop loops (cheerios). Five seconds later he's face down on the sofa, screaming ' I want mommy come to bed with me' and wailing like its life or death if I dont, when dh is actually offering three bedtime stories... God sakes child!
This week, my last full week in our flat, is chock-a-block. 1st birthday parties, last playdates, last visits, last shopping expeditions, last full week with Fely (our helper) and last three days for William at school. Sigh (again). Or so I thought. Johnny woke up this morning on cue at 7:10 full of good things to say, happy chirp about painting, pools and playgrounds and I gave in. I figured I'd save myself the drama and him the crocodile tears and call it a day on school. I mean what's three days anyway. So he's officially retired. Aged 2 and a half. Boy genius. Ten minutes after my pang of guilt and good intention of keeping him home so we can learn to bond for when it's just the two of us, I realised I had a 1st birthhday party to go to this morning without him. Luckily I'm still able to pack him off with our helper to a 'dinosaur' playground and chicken and rice for lunch. Tomorrow we'll bond. Promise.
I am getting really nervous about the big move now. I dont really like change. I'm a creature of habit. I've been to Limoncello for dinner about 5 times; have had the ravioli everytime, been to Boomerang for dinner about 50 times have had the cajun salmon everytime; been to PS Cafe for lunch about 50 times; have had the ceaser salad everytime...so you get where I'm coming from. I like familiarity, I like routine, I dont like surprises.
I'm nervous about so many things. What if I get there and hate it? What if it's so dam cold the kids never want to leave home and after two week's of being stuck in a serviced apartment when we're forced to eat delivery, take outs and loop loops, I'm fat, semi comatose on wine and suicidal? Ok, so that's pretty dramatic but I'm scared. I hate all these What if's?
Over the past two weeks several of my friends and friends of friends have come down ill with nasty stomach bugs. It seemed everyday I was running into someone I knew who knew someone that had been affected. It's one thing I've never loved about Singapore. Germ pollination. It seems that once a bug hites the sandy shores it takes over the island stopping at nothing- a bit like Contagion. So, as a closet paranoid neurotic and vomit-phobic mother I have kept my kids in semi-quarintine the past 2 weeks hoping that it would pass and we could escape vom free. So far so good. Sadly however I've heard of two little babies this week in hospital for nasty infections and my neuroticy levels have sky rocketed. Last night I clocked less than two hours sleep just staying up worrying that whilst my family, dear hubby included, snored peacefully, horrible little bugs were flying through the window infecting us with horribleness. I woke up this morning feeling awful, sleep deprived and miserable. As much as I want to enjoy my last two weeks in Singapore, I could do without a stomach bug and could do without two weeks worrying about it.
I have had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach for days now and I have to keep convincing myself its the cupious amounts of wine I'm drinking - and not the Rotavirus.
A tummy bug is surely not the end of the world though right? I mean it lasts at most a few days and then is gone. Hey, could even help me lose the extra muffin top before Christmas. My major concern is a tummy bug on a 19 hour flight. The last, and only, business class flight I've done was ruined by the masses amounts of red wine I drank for three days before we left London four years ago. I'll be dammed if some ugly looking parascopic bug can stand in the way of free flow champagne, flat beds and lobster thermidor.
Sigh!
So, here's to a stress-free week of moving, packing, admin, bug free baby activities and more farewell lunches.
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