Monday December 4th: The Anniversary Post Script

Expectation and lived reality usually differ, but this is especially true when kids, particularly your own kids are involved.

And so it was, with the long awaited "Anniversary Weekend."

The hotel was booked, complete with a couples massage, a bottle of champagne and a late dinner reservation.  I had even vaguely floated the idea of buying something suitably cliche and lacy - I didn't get around to it of course, but anyway... it turns out it was just as well.

By Friday at 1am both boys have hacking coughs which soon morph into vomit.  Ugh.  Cue R and I spending the rest of the night changing sheets, getting water, dispensing cough medicine and bitching about who did the last round and who is doing more (me clearly).

Saturday morning dawns and we're both cranky.  It's also clear that no one, not even (or especially) family should be asked to cope with a second night like that. Plus, the boys would go crazy if we left them overnight somewhere when they're sick.  Only the dinner reservations can be changed without a fee - so we're stuck with a hotel room (literally around corner from our house) and the spa appointment. 

All is not lost however.  My sister in law comes to stay with the kids while we have our massage (R falls asleep in exhaustion, I think about making soup for their coughs).  We go home, we take the kids with us to the hotel - I optimistically bill it as a holiday family sleepover, yeah!

So instead of champagne, we take turns swigging a half bottle of average red wine from the hotel mini bar (the boys are putting animals in the glasses), the dinner plan becomes eating the kids leftover pizza with a McDonald's sundaes.  The kids are loving it though: the tv is bigger! The bed is bigger! You can see into other people's rooms!

We all pile into the bed.  Twenty minutes later, Avery is sick everywhere.

All the towels get used up as we try and mop up the mess.  I open the window and crack a couple of mini bottles, we take more sips in between cleaning up the bed, the children and ourselves. I hope I have enough cash on me for a serious tip.

We do a second round of baths.              Everyone collapses in exhaustion.

There is no glamour in this I think.

The morning brings room service and with it a slightly happier family.

So it was not at all what I'd planned.

But it was a reminder for me that relationships are not actually about the big planned events, but somehow finding fun in the tedium of the everyday, with someone that you can hopefully look across a pile of rancid towels at 2 am and think, I'm glad its him.

Even if it takes the help of a few small bottles to source that kind of zen. /rs