The countdown is crazy. Ludicrous. The last week before he gets home from work is like the last week before you go before on holidays. I write a list of all the things I want done before he gets home its crazy ridiculous and we go mad cleaning gardening until the night before when its my turn.
I go into first date mode because that’s what it feels like the night before and that day picking him up from the airport. Its the same feeling I got on our first date I hate and love it all at the same time. Its nervous excited. You know the feeling butterflies cant sleep cant eat that sort of rubbish. I know when that feeling has gone we are in serious trouble.
So the night before the kids go to bed early and I scrub, exfoliate, colour, shape and tweeze everything to an inch of its life. I go to bed thinking about what I will wear when I pick him up this I will honestly say is determined by two factors have a I gained or lost weight or do I have anything new to wear and do I think I could “saunter” in to the airport like the 23 year old self I was when I met him full of confidence ego and charm to collect him or will I have the 34 year old three kid waddle effect and a drive by is the only option myself esteem can muster.
This month though I have literally worked my backside off and I’m happy to say that I will be “sauntering’ my way into that airport.
