The closest thing to a day off

Today, Lovely Husband announced that I was having a day off. After a complicated arrangement of a rendez-vous so that I could feed Little as required, he headed off with all three of our little loves.

It’s a funny feeling when they’re away from me. It happens rarely and I kind of feel like I’ve lost a limb. I often crave time to myself, but, the second they’re not here, I miss them. Today was no exception.

It being a day off, I decided I’d try really hard not to do any housework. So after putting the washing on, making the beds and setting the steriliser to do its thing, I nipped to the vets’ to pick up some wormer for my Christmas present*. I then took myself out to brunch and went to feed Little.

Arriving home, I had the bath I’ve been craving since before Little arrived. There were bubbles, a face pack and Made In Chelsea on catch up. Lovely. But there were two things that were special today: One was the fact that Lovely Husband gave me the precious gift of time to myself and the other was the girls’ faces when they saw me.

Because they’re with me all the time, I rarely see the joy on their faces when they see me. I’m part of the furniture, always there and expected to be there. Today they’d been apart from me from 10.30am until 5pm (other than for Little’s feed) and their little faces lit up like the now dismantled Christmas tree when they saw me and Big and Medium have just had an argument over who loves Mummy more. Magic.

It’s been a lovely festive period. We’ve been quite sociable for us. There’s been friends and family and a lot of joy. 2015 will take some beating. I hope 2016 is ready to fill its boots.

*Lovely Husband excelled himself this year with the gift of two Maine Coon x Ragdoll kittens. Two more mouths to feed and two more bums to keep clean and boy, do I love them. Gorgeous bundles of fluff.

 

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The closest thing to a day off

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