19 sleeps

In 20 sleeps I am planning on drinking a glass or three of wine at 8am. I don't usually plan my alcohol consumption so far ahead. Usually, I just plan for a glass of vino at the end of the day. But this time I am being specific. 8am. Airport Lounge. Glass of Red.

Because in 19 sleeps we will have boarded our domestic flight to Sydney and in 20 sleeps we will be boarding our flight to the next two years of our life. Exciting as that thought is, I have to get though the next 19 days first.

Life with a 2 and 4 year old is chaotic at the best of times. Right now, I wish they were in childcare 24/7 as I cannot get ANYTHING done while they are around. Ok, so they are only 2 and 4, and the concept of moving our lives overseas is well and truly beyond them. They are oblivious to my preoccupation of sorting the contents of the house into:
* luggage (stuff we cannot do without for at least 6 weeks),
* overseas up lift (stuff we can live without for up to six weeks, but after that become must have nows) * storage (stuff we don't need for the next years/stuff that won't work in north america/stuff we probably will never need again but I can't throw out
* rubbish (stuff I should have gotten rid of ten years ago but have lugged around because I couldn't be bothered)...

Instead of understanding and pandering to my obvious stressed out preoccupation, The Eldest suffered a frustrating day of asking me to 'play shops'. Something I had no desire or inclination to do, as it involves The Eldest having a sheet up over her bunk bed and me endlessly knocking on the door asking for random items that I have put away and mentally noted which of the four categories they belonged to. I did willingly participate in 45 mins worth of hide and seek. This involved me 'hiding' in easily locatable spots and not necessarily making any attempt to seek her out, meaning I could sneak in five mins here and there to peruse my incredibly long list in the vain hope that something achievable might leap out at me.

I did think that calling to organise dates for disconnection of utilities was achievable, except that I ended up locking myself away in our wardrobe in order to hear the man at ACTEW. I'm surprised he didn't offer to call for emergency assistance for me, as I can quite sure it sounded like I was being attacked by wolves carrying sledgehammers.

To prove my preoccupation was a danger to all involved, The Youngest spent the day head butting all manner of household objects and now sports a fine collection of bruises and one egg on her forehead. She did this whilst insisting on watching the same episode of Hi-5 over and over. I thought this would be a welcome change to Dora, and am prepared to say at this point that it was definitely a mistake.

I did attempt to take them out for a walk. I unpacked the pram, reassembled it, argued for 45 mins about the importance of putting on shoes, socks and a jumper in 12 degree weather, gave up, disassembled the pram, packed it up and made myself my 25th cup of tea for the day.

So tomorrow, much will be achieved because that pair of nutbags that I willingly brought into the world, are going to childcare, where they can spend all day playing shops and dancing and having adults watch them to ensure they don't fall over and hurt the furniture. They will be given nutritious food instead of overcooked fish fingers, teddy biscuits and chips. They will have fun, play and be with friends. And come home to, hopefully, a slightly less stressed out mother, who accomplished (let's be positive) A LOT of things of her list.