Tutti-Frutti Toddler Abandonment

Soooooooo blog readers, WallyBubba appreciators and people googling vaginas (I get a lot of traffic from that… #proud)… next week, something unusual is happening…

Yes.

Something completely out of the ordinary…

Because on Monday. The WallyDaddy and I will leave the toddler for almost an entire week while we head off to Venice…

*pauses for gasps and faces of shock*
Obviously WallyBubba won’t be completely alone… (There’ll be the cats, the Ninky-Nonk and a bag of rice-cakes for company… I do HAVE a heart…) But the six days we’ll be away feels like an awfully long time now that it’s almost upon us…

Think of all the shit she can f@*k up in a week with the Grandparents fuelling her with ice cream and blueberries every day… *winces*… I’m not even sure I’ll have a house to come home to?! She’s probably on frigging MySpace right now organising some kind of toddler rave to take place in my living room… with a bring-your-own-bottle-and-wellies policy, a kilo of haribo and some livestock… Shit.

But, to be serious for a second, I’m not actually sure how I’M going to cope without her for a week… I’m not saying I won’t revel in some ACTUAL BASTARD SLEEP, or enjoy a week without the all weather play-ground trips and generally NOT having to run my life around the toddler’s yoghurt-come-softplay schedule…. but I’ve never gone more than a day and a night without seeing her… and I’m feeling slightly apprehensive.

Once we’re into day two of our trip, I genuinely think I’m going to start missing my crusty, marmite-infused clothing and being continually pooed and/or climbed on. And it’ll be weird looking ‘nice’ for an entire week… I’m not sure I remember how to do it… I can’t even remember if I own a hairbrush or a pair of pants that actually matches a bra?! I have absolutely no idea if I can even manage a whole slice of toast on my own, or if I don’t enjoy sitting on the floor as opposed to actual furniture these days… Jesus. I’ll even be using a proper handbag for the entire week and everything. F@*k. Actual F@&K. 

So whilst I expect no sympathy whatsoever whilst I head off for a week of adult-only wining, dining and romantic culture… do think of me, sat on a gondola mid-way up the grand canal… crying into my pac-a-mac like a twat and blubbing that no-one’s spat cheerios in my eye for three days… and that gin just doesn’t taste the same unless it’s out of a sippy-cup… *sniff*

See you in a week MoFos.

Ciao xx

p.s. No f@*king un-following me while I’m gone.


p.p.s. Yes, I actually bought a pac-a-mac. You have permission to punch me in the face if you ever see me wearing it in public. 

29 Comments

  1. Californian Mum in London February 8, 2014
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  2. Katie Kirby February 8, 2014
    • Wally Mummy February 8, 2014
  3. youbabymemummy February 8, 2014
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  4. Kate Pirouette February 8, 2014
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  5. Helen (NellB14) February 8, 2014
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  6. The Unmumsy Mum February 9, 2014
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  7. Slave to my Toddler February 9, 2014
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  8. Tom IdeasforDads February 9, 2014
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  9. Tom @ Diary of the Dad February 9, 2014
    • Wally Mummy February 9, 2014
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  10. Mummy Whiskers February 9, 2014
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  11. Notmyyearoff February 9, 2014
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  12. Downs Side Up February 11, 2014
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  13. Judith Hurrell February 16, 2014
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  14. SarahMummy February 17, 2014
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