By jove...

...where did the week go?

I can't be arsed to tell you about the faff I had with the solicitors at the start of this week because I'm bored to tears over it now and don't feel it's fair to spread the misery. I also can't bring myself to live through it again in another telling, it was too stressful the first time. Upshot is, it's almost all over and we 'think' moving day is next Thursday. I'm not holding my breath but I'm not particularly good at playing it cool either so it's all a bit emotional over here. Emotional and messy since we're living in a house full of boxes. Yay. That's not upsetting my OCD at all. Not one jot. *sits in corner and cries.

Husband is reacting to the whole debacle by grumping about being forced to live in 'an empty, soulless house' for the next week. I am trying my damndest to ignore this stroppy attitude because his initial plan of moving ourselves made me laugh so hysterically I was also sick but also because I know who will ultimately wind up packing like a mad bastard on Wednesday night and frankly, I'd like to avoid that scenario at all costs. So if we have to choose between boxes and grumpy Husband now or chaos and even grumpier Husband then...easiest choice ever made?? You tell me!

So, let's have a little look at the list we made on Monday and assess progress. (I like lists and ticking stuff off, makes me feel still relevant and current, humour me...)

Found the packing tape in the garage out of reach and hidden behind some shite Husband was supposed to have taken to the charity shop months ago. It would appear he's been taking advantage of my dislike of garages. Bastard! Anyway, packing is back on.

Solicitor is an idiot. I'm past caring now. Need him to just literally stay alive until all the paperwork is signed and then I never have to deal with him again. Can't wait.

Easter Egg Bingo was actually lots of fun and not as mind-numbingly tedious as I'd feared. Chair is, as ever, a moron who makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a toothpick but in a few short months her tenure will be over (Posh Mama, here's looking at you for vice...!!) and we won't have to deal with her short-sighted idiocy anymore. So that keeps us all going.

Swimming lessons are still going well. Not sure how they will work in September what with starting at 4pm, the pool being 20mins away and Toddler not leaving school until 3.45pm...but I'll worry about that when I know where he'll be sleeping each night. Priorities right?

Baby's last Baby Sensory class was super cute as it was Easter themed and he was, without a doubt, the cutest damn bunny I have ever laid eyes on. Such a stunner. He promptly came home and started to cut 3 molars and has been a miserable little shit ever since. But Thursday morning was lovely!! Will be sad to stop going, and am not really sure what we're going to fill that weekly time slot with, but I know without doubt that I couldn't spend another 5/6 weeks getting my knickers in a twist about getting Baby home each Thursday without falling asleep so feel solid in my decision.

And buying one purchase from the Spring list got a little out of hand and I accidentally purchased 3. All from Boden. I blame the solicitors not knowing how to work their own fax machine?? Anyway, beautiful strappy ballet pumps, yellow and cream Breton and a grey lightweight jumper be mine. Threw 2 tops for Toddler into my online basket to appease the Mum guilt which fit him like a dream too so that helped. I will get there. I will have some semblance of style before I hit 32.

Speaking of which, there are 7 long days of Lent left and therefore 7 days until I a) can drink wine again and b) turn 32. Bloody hell. I am equal measures thrilled about this and terrified. I think 36/37 is my scary age. We can discuss why at a later date (when I've thought about it properly!)

Tomorrow is roast chicken, Baby swimming lessons and more cycling with Toddler. We took his stabilisers off today and want to continue while he is doing so well and actually moving on the damn thing instead of standing around screaming like an angry tomato every time it wobbles slightly. Praying for some sunshine so these new pumps can be christened. Have a blessed Sunday. It may well be our last one in this house...?