Holiday (again) tomorrow for 9 days… with the in-laws (again)

Ladies, ladies, ladies…..  now before I sound like a right old, ungrateful, spoilt, ex-pat cow… please listen to the evidence below and then pass your own judgements.  I stand by everything I say though.

Am I the ONLY woman in the world who finds it the MOST stressful thing to do, when I have to pack for a long holiday with 15 month old Twins?!   I mean, Itchy & Scratchy are STILL not eating solids properly (well…unless you count those Organix Carrot sticks which cover anything/everything in orange. Or those Hard Teething biscuits which have potential for choking).  Therefore, what do I have to do EVERY bloody g-d damn holiday?!?   I have to go and buy soooo much fucking food/nappies/wipes to last the flight and whole trip.  For the record, I usually cook ALL the kids food, ALL OF IT, from scratch.  They’ve just got a taste for lamb which I’ll add to the recipe file as it works without all the sugar etc you, apparently, sometimes need to entice the little buggers.

On a separate note, I want to kill myself from the stress of packing/shopping/packing some more and making bloody boring endless lists of shit to make sure I forget nothing.   *NB. For those potentially suicidal types, I only mean this in a general sense, so please don’t go doing anything stupid and claim I should be held liable.

Anyhow, the baby food in Hong Kong is NOT cheap…. in fact, it’s a bloody piss take in how much they increase the price of everything.  I have to still use my currency converter otherwise, I’d be buying Hipp Organic Milk for £20.  Its definitely not like at home, where you pop into Tescos and buy 5 Organix jars of baby food and get 5 free, on special, for like £4.99.

Everything in Hong Kong is expensive and all I spend money on at the moment, is food for the kids (ok… and a lil bitty itty bit of booze for Mamma).  Well that and a Helmet for Itchy called a “Thudguard” as she keeps falling face down while walking and scaring the living shit out of me.

FYI, this Thudguard was delivered to me within a day and is the best thing I’ve ever bought my daughter as she is bloody nuts and bangs into everything.  Unlike her overly cautious Twin brother who acts about 80 years old and will not let himself get hurt in any way.

Anyhow, I especially HATE shopping in general (unless I’m ordering my clothes online with Asos…. who I love & they deliver to my door without faffing around big stores).  Yesterday, I spent over 3 hours (yes, 3 frigin, bloody long, painful hours), wandering around Ap Lei Chau‘s “Bumps to Babes”, buying baby food, swim nappies, Teething granules, Teething gels, mossie cream/bands/patches, new sleeping bags and other crap I suddenly realised the kids needed.  I then bought myself some extra strength Panadol, en route home… which I downed with Vodka.  Hey, its fine…. the kids weren’t with me in the car, and in my mind, driving off a cliff would have been a bonus yesterday.

The Captain, however, simply CAN NOT get his head around the amount of shit we have to take.  He’s like “err…. all my friends go on holiday with their kids and they never have any problems?!?  CHILL OUT”.  CHILL OUT?! ARE YOU KIDDING, MR, “Domestic Helper please pack my case”?!   He is a MAN.  They pretend they “understand” and “feel your pain” (“White Men can’t Jump” also has a lot of shit to answer for).  I dont care. I work hard every day, just like Captain and he would go FUCKING INSANE doing what I do. E V E R Y D AY.  But, we are meant to be, what?! Superhuman women?!  I’m tired.  I get guiltily bored girls too.  I want to be with the kids, but also without.  How does this shit work?!  I call my Mum and sometimes, shes all 1970’s hard “Get a Grip!” and other times, she tells me “ohh… I was soo upset, I left you with our alcoholic nanny who worked at Dad’s restaurant and went back to Iran for a few months because I was homesick”.  Thanks.  So, we are never going to get it totally right, BUT, I’ll be damned if our kids turn out like my Husbands family (he thinks they’re perfect in comparison to mine), nor do I ever want my parent’s life on them.  Lets pull our shit together. Its called Evolution.  We grow over our own parents, because we accumulate knowledge.  Its how the world works.

I have 2 problems with this unbelievably ignorant/ungrateful/typical 1950’s Dad, comment. Firstly, none of his mates EVER bought or packed sod all for any of their holidays abroad with their kids, who were all usually a few years apart in age.  In fact their wives used to scare the shit out of me (before we had our Twins) saying, “same daily routine, different location, except the Husband demands more sex”.

Secondly, NONE of his lucky mates, have Twins with acute/silent Reflux and our Twins can still puke all over you at any given time.  In fact, my daughter recently did a nice big milk puke while we were sat at that über cool Bar on South Beach where everyone is all “Hi, yeh, hi…look at my toned non-baby baring arse, tummy, 20-year-old thighs”… while they play anything from Cafe del Mar, to Dance music.

So, I sat there covered in my daughters puke and while The Captain laughed at me in this super cool/bar/cafe, wearing his annoying fucking Aviators (Top Gun has a lot to answer for, aside from Scientology) …. I pulled off my top and revealed a very skimpy vest top beneath.  You gotta be prepared as a Mum of Twins after all …. even if it means layering your clothes to save space in the baby bag.

And you know what girls…. before the twins… I was one hot mutha (and in my mind, I always will be… even if I never was!).  I have the confidence to knock any wanker off their feet that tells me I can’t do what I want, when I want or chose.  I’m not saying I’m ANYTHING amazing.  It’s the attitude of those arrogant bastard men, that I walk around with.  I think I’m better!!!  Wrong or right, who cares but i will never ever let my girl/boy destroy anyone on this kind of bullshit appearance crap.  If you have faith & believe in yourself, let go of any potential “oooh… Im too fat/skinny/ugly/wotever” crap.  If you feel great… live it.  I do and I’m not an arrogant arse. I’ve just had so many years of fab therapy with someone who told me… “it’s not you, its them” + I’m not talking about Men.  I cleaned the floor with any Man who tried to top me.  The captain included.  I love that.   Anyhow, during the puking incident, The Captain laughs, then turns to me and says, “errr… babe… your boobs are very revealing in that top. Cover up?!”  I didn’t of course ….  his eyes we fixated.  I want his eyes… RIGHT ON ME.  I’m not putting that top on, even if Jesus suddenly appeared.

Anyhow, all of The Captains comments alone made me want to fucking hit him with Itchy’s new Havaiana flip flops in baby size 19 (yes, I bought my daughter some super cool flip-flops …. along with some sunnies, Baby Banz today).

So now, here’s the question for some of you Mums who want to kill your Partners before you go on holiday with them, and they utter those fucking annoying tomes “CHILL OUT”.   Pack lots and lots and lots of Valium,  unless you have the balls to smuggle other things in via certain orifices I can’t name for legal reasons.  Then, arrive, book into the spa and spank that bastard Credit Card until it hurts him.  I’m soo good at NOT doing that, but my word, recently…. It’s the only place that seems to hurt him/any man.

Our new place of destination is, Bali.  My new friend/girl crush, Parental Parody, if you are reading this…. any advice/suggestions on how NOT to harm my hubby (or his family…. who I will never match or be above) would be much appreciated and noted.

I’m sure we will all have a swell time together. Me, the Twins, in-laws & extra family joining us. Can’t bloody wait.  Joy.

ps. YES IM FUCKING UNGRATEFUL but… I’ve had terrible insomnia again girls and its killing my writing buzz (which is the only thing keeping me sane on this Island,  that is Hong Kong).  Shame…. I still see myself back in freezing, shitty cold, taxing London.  But at least, I was never alone.

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About Sharzad Hime-Michaels

A (40++) Punk “wannabe”. SW15 London born/bred, Kind (‘ish), Strict (normal) “parent“ of 3 children under 18 (twins included). Divorced. A great cook. Shockingly argumentative after 9pm on a Monday evening...

One response to “Holiday (again) tomorrow for 9 days… with the in-laws (again)”

  1. Elias says :

    It is really nice to read honest pieces. I love your blog!
    Thanks for sharing.

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