Gee whizz, what a week!

Wait for it, you won't believe this one.

So basically, we found the house, I mentioned the house to the outside world and promptly THE JINX jumped up and bit me in the ass. Horrid next door neighbours who we have never really spoken to but never really had an issue with randomly decided to fence over our only point of rear access because (and I quote) 'you're moving'. Well yes, hillbillies, yes we are, but it's still our gate and we still use it every day which is our God given/legal right and we're assuming our buyers will want to also... Bloody incompetents. Anyway, that was Saturday last weekend. We asked them to stop and they did...
Sunday was fairly uneventful, in comparison. So uneventful, infact, that I have no recollection of what we did at all. Stellar!
Monday afternoon, I arrived at nursery to find Toddler being stripped off and changed as he had sat down in the comfy corner, cried, coughed and thrown up everywhere. Like, everywhere. For someone who has only ever had one stomach bug in his entire (albeit short) life, he did an impressive job. Even his well-seasoned staff looked a little shaken by his exorcist attempts. Therefore, our early evening was mainly me holding a bucket while he retched sadly into it, then carrying him to the loo in a rush. At one point we just hung out in the main bathroom for an hour, all 3 of us, like sad little vomit-ridden refugees. Fun times. By the time I popped both of them into bed I felt like sobbing but had made plans to begin running again which turned out to be just the release I needed.
Tuesday, again, we spent a chilled out normal day with Toddler at home. He had a slightly dodgy tummy but nothing to write home about after the day before. I had stomach cramp but put it down to impending period (groan) and mainly celebrated the fact that our foray into vomit-ville had been incredibly short-lived and was now over. Made pancakes, ate 4 too many and decided to give up wine for Lent (because essentially it would appear that I am a sado-masochist with very low self-esteem and a love of setting unachievable goals??)
Then Wednesday came. Toddler was still at home for the rest of his 48hr ban from nursery and woah nelly was I sick. I may have, just may have, cursed those pancakes to hell and back (sorry innocent pancakes, you were not at fault here, my bad). Had to admit defeat before 8am and ring Nana in an emergency head-down-loo-while-Baby-takes-full-advantage-and-sticks-fingers-into-plug-socket situation. Hellish. Luckily, Nana arrived shortly afterwards and took both boys out for the day so I could lie around feeling rank, worry about the wankers next door, sip some water, throw up and then feel rank again. God love her, she's a star.
Thursday was better but Nana stayed just incase. The day after a stomach bug is almost just as bad I always find as you have literally nothing left inside you but the thought of food or drink still makes you feel a bit 'ooh no, best not, could anger the bug...' so instead you sit around feeling ravenous but too scared to eat. Sigh, middle class problems. Went to collect Toddler from nursery and the manager stopped me to say, slight fuck-up on our part but it would appear that we've not charged you for 14weeks of care since last February... Err ok? Cue immediate panic attack and guilty feelings of fee-avoidance and inadvertent criminal behaviour EVEN THOUGH HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG (other than not check the invoices properly it would seem, but really not my responsibility surely?) So now have to sit down with them on Monday and cross-reference my transactions with their records. Ooh fun, Baby will love that I'm sure. Groan.
Got home from stressful trip to nursery to be accosted on my own drive by neighbour (urgh) who claimed her (imaginary!) solicitor had reviewed their deeds and advised her to go ahead and do as she pleased. So that was fun. Stress levels here were around 12. Out of 5.
Friday was meant to be a visit to the soft play with Art Mum but she chickened out because we'd had the bug so we found ourselves at a loose end. Managed to run some errands in town with both boys and no-one cried or stomped their feet. (Disclaimer: Toddler was bribed with a Krispy Kreme. Baby was restrained at all times in Bugaboo) Then we had an impromptu play at BFF's house which is always a bonus.
Saturday came again, as it tends to do, and we woke up feeling rather 'tense'. Would we look up at any random moment and find that the idiots next door had decided to go ahead again... I did what I always do in shitty situations and went out for a run. Hazzah for a bonafide reason to avoid confrontation, love it! In the end, mid garage-sorting, they came over and spoke to Husband who managed to explain to them in easy-to-understand words that they couldn't do what they wished (you no fence there, fence bad, me sad, you go home now...that kind of thing) and they've changed their minds. It could have been something to do with the fact that I'd threatened them with mediation of course but Husband likes to think it was his speech. I let him have it!
Then some packing boxes arrived from Amazon which was nice, and I stupidly got all excited about the process before quickly realising that a) Husband is quite a precise packer and for someone who isn't going to be around for most of the damn process he has an awful lot of wisdom and suggestions and criticisms to share and b) packing is a bore. I have spent the last 24 hours bemoaning all our 'shit' and throwing yet more bits and bobs into ikea bags for the charity shops in town. Practically half our belongings will soon be for sale on our local high street. Awkward!
And today was Sunday which consisted of paperwork, soft play with Toddler and swimming for Baby and Husband. I wouldn't say no stress, but definitely LESS stress than the rest of the week and DEF less vomit. Woo!
I know it's not necessarily plain-sailing from here on out, but I am beginning to see it. I am beginning to believe that it will happen. Number 5 will be ours. I shall say my prayers, and make a LOT of phonecalls tomorrow!
Here's hoping the week ahead is kinder, to all of us. Hope you've got nice things planned? If I can keep my wits about me until Thursday I am treating myself to supper with Posh Mama and her friend. Fingers crossed!