Classified mission: authorised personnel only

It’s just occurred to me that listening to the Propellerheads version of a James Bond theme tune is a rocking way to go to work in London.

Marching with purpose to my theme tune this morning ensured that I remembered that I was on a very important mission. The fate of the world rests on my shoulders. (I need such a massage). Ready to break out my ninja-like moves at the first sign of trouble I contined to march with purpose. Speed, stealth and uncanny observation skills are at my disposal as I enter the most dangerous place on earth… The tube in rush hour.

I would need all my skills and training to get through this. Knowing that I am on ‘her Majesty’s secret service’ and my top secret mission cannot fail I go into stealth mode.

An evil mastermind must know I am here. The ‘screaming baby’ has been deployed! Nothing can make me break cover until I am ready. My exit strategy is already in place and my escape route planned.

Here we go. Precision timing is key. And go!

I dive through the enemy lines in spectcular style. Nothing can stop me as I race to make my connection and launch on to the next tube with millimetres to spare.

The end is in sight. I am seconds away from the rendevoux. The tube reaches it’s destination and I swiftly move up the staircase blasting all obstruction in my way. I duck into the building before the enemy spots me.

“Triple shot latte please”

“Would you like a pastry with that?”

“No, thanks.”

Mission complete. The world is safe once more.

The Travelers Wife

Admittedly if I had started this blog about 10 years ago then this would’ve been the title. Big Daddy was always off one place or another for work reasons. Sometimes it would be overnight, other times a couple of weeks. I learned to adapt quite well as you do, and quickly became quite good at managing out little family as a temporary single mum. But the traveling – the real traveling hasn’t happened in years (I don’t count the odd overnight here and there). It was one of the reasons that we moved to the UK, to change our lifestyle and actually live as a full time family. I have to say it’s been pretty awesome!

 

So when I found out that he was going away for 10 days it was a case of shrugging the shoulders, no big deal, love you, hurry home. After all, I’m a professional travelers wife. I am unfazed and resilient with just the right amount of cavalier and practicality. In short, as usual, I rock. No really I do. No really…. No really? No, not really at all!

Somewhere over the last few years I got soft. I forgot that the first few days I was always rendered useless. I never quite know why that is, I don’t think I ever figured it out back then and I certainly don’t get it now. My sleep pattern changes, I am on constant high alert – every sound is investigated, every thing checked at least three times, like mild OCD. It’s like having your arm chopped off, and every other part of you is trying to make up for it.

So it is with great relief that I am finally writing again, because that means my equilibrium has readjusted. Can’t say the same for the sleep though, but that’s nothing a little cucumber and eye cream can’t fix. With a huge dose of concealer.