On Monday, Big G (that's my hubby) and I are jetting off to France for a few days of skiing in the Alps. Some friends (who we have known forever but hardly ever see) will be in the same resort, and I simply can't wait to see their faces and hear their news and lark about and drink and zoom down mountains at top speed and have the need to apply suncream. I can't wait to have a change from my normal humdrum routine. Our friends are staying in a shared catered chalet for a week, but we have opted for a hotel as we will only be there for 4 nights.
I'm going to miss the kids horribly - and I'm sure they will miss me - but Big G and I are long overdue some marriage-maintenance adult time to ourselves. I'm sure the kids will have a nice time with their grandparents: My mum will look after them and cook their favourite meals like 'Chicken in Soup' and 'Sausages with Gravy'; My Dad will get his old Meccano set out, and ask them about their lives and feelings. The kids are taking the hamster with them but they will need to come home once a day to feed the guinea pigs. They are nervous about not seeing us all week, and I will pine for them and feel terribly guilty.
My fitness level is not downright atrocious but it's certainly not anywhere near what it should be 2 days before a ski trip either. But hey, I can't be flippin' perfect at flippin' everything. I feel hopelessly unprepared, but at the same time I'm absolutely ready to go.
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