Wow, what a week we’ve had with some very good parts, some wincey funny (Cougar) parts and some, unfortunately, pretty ugly and horrid parts!
We went to Marbella for the wedding of some lovely friends and it was beautiful. My Mum took charge at home and I had my first full night’s sleep in 5 years. Our villa was amazing with panoramic views over the coast and mountains and the wedding, which took place in a Hacienda in land, was simply stunning. a wonderful couple, who deserve more happiness than they have been dealt in the past, said their emotional vows over a stunning setting and then we partied hard for two full days with the reception (open bar) and a BBQ pool party the next day (another open bar). Our heads might still be a little fuzzy!
I spent all the time (when I wasn’t drinking wine or cocktails) reading ‘Mad About The Boy’ which is the latest instalment in the Bridget Jones books. I read the first one on my 21st holiday party in Majorca where I drove my party animal friends demented chuckling to myself and preferring to read than going out! I spent this ‘mini break’ (I have so turned into speaking like Bridget) doing the same to my husband!
Weddings attended (1). Calories consumed while at wedding and on holiday (42,000). Alcohol units drunk (too many to keep track of). Shags (Mind your own bees wax). Minutes spent thinking up ways to keep reading and not shag (Quite a few – don’t tell Jonny). Fun had (gazillions)!
Now, THIS is embarrassing. I was mental worried about leaving Florence and Jimmy for three nights. Florence is teary at school and not enjoying it, my Mum is 65 and gets tired and I’ve never been away from them for that long before let alone in a different country. Before I went I told Florence’s teacher, ‘Mr Foxy’, that my Mum would be in charge. I then left her number with the office. Twice. Still worried that they may not have the number down properly I told my Mum to go into the office and give it again. She did. Still paranoid though, I asked my Mum to make sure she also gave her number DIRECTLY to ‘Mr Foxy’, JUST in case. So… She took her number on a piece of paper to the school and he wasn’t there that morning (perhaps PPA – whatever that is but people keep talking about it) so she said to the NQT, in exactly these words, ‘Please can you give this phone number to ‘Mr Foxy’. My daughter is quite keen for him to have it.’
Inside the envelope, with the number, my Mum had written her name, who she is and that it was for while she was looking after Florence, but honestly, it must have sounded to the NQT like I’d asked my Mum to slip the young whippersnapper teacher my number… Totally embarrassing and of course something that would happen to me. (And perhaps Bridget!)
The Downright Ugly!
When we came home I was greeted by two very excited children who jumped all over me, that’s not the ugly part. After a while however, my tiny 4 year old girl just started crying and basically did so all evening. She says she hates school and I don’t know what we’re going to do about it except hope it gets better… I pretended the phone number thing hadn’t happened and spoke to ‘Mr Foxy’ this morning who was very reassuring but then, leaving her SCREAMING for me to come back almost broke my heart in two. I shall keep you posted on how we go… Believe it or not, that is NOT the truly ugliest thing from this little tale though…
We went to bed last night and a couple of hours later I woke up to find a man trying to break into my slightly open but locked bedroom window. I was face to face with him outside my upstairs bedroom window. I screamed and screamed and shouted ‘CALL the police’. Jonny turned into some sort of primate (a natural reaction maybe?) and was practically beating his chest as the burglar jumped down off our flat roof and sped off into the distance. Despite the police being there within 3 minutes he wasn’t caught but the dick weed left his bike so they are hopeful to get some DNA from it. There were no finger prints so fingers crossed for the DNA. Our fence is broken which apparently would have been an invitation to him, our sensor light also doesn’t work and with the window being open (even though locked) we were prime targets apparently. The police say he won’t come back but I am freaking out a bit because this is the THIRD time it has happened to me…
There was an attempted break in at my Mum’s when I was home alone and I had to identify the culprit as they arrested him in our garden which was pretty scary and also, when I was 18 and working as a dancer and entertainer in the Canaries I woke up to find a man above my bed pulling a rope out of his bag. I jumped out of my window grabbing a knife on the way (it was a small studio) and he would have known it would take me a few minutes to get to the reception for help. I had a LOT of cash out on the side as I had run bingo in the hotel that night yet when we got back to my apartment we found that he hadn’t taken anything. I couldn’t get over the thought of the fact that if he wasn’t there for money and he had a rope then what WAS he there for? I ended my contract early and came home. That whole experience has stayed with me for forever and I have, ever since, woken up in a panic when on holiday in different beds. It’s ironic then that for the first time that didn’t happen to me when we were in Marbella and I remarked on it while we were there assuming I must be finally over it.
I know this latest experience isn’t quite the same or as worrying as what happened to me when I was 18 but it’s brought back some horrible memories and I am more than a little freaked out. The police were wonderful though and we are putting things in place today to make our property safer…
So. It was a week with very different aspects. I hope next week I’ll be reporting on Florence being happy at school again and definitely not on any more burglary action. Anyway, until then! I have a Friday Night Treat Tea with a ‘Hello Kitty’ theme to go and prepare.