900 Minutes

I am entering a new era of my life today.  For the first time in over five years I am going to have 15 hours, or 900 minutes to myself each week whilst Sebi is at nursery.  Amazing.

I'm not the woman I used to be however.  A few years ago, fifteen precious hours to myself over a lunchtime period would most definitely have been mainly spent in the pub.  I'm ashamed to say that I can't handle lunchtime drinking anymore.  I'm pleased that I hit my twenties as hard as I did because I've become a bit of a pussy in my thirties.

So, what am I going to do with all of this free time.  Well once you have done the nursery drop off and school pick up, cleaned the house and done a couple of runs, I don't reckon there will be that much time left.  I intend to go out to lunch once a week.  This was my main reason for choosing afternoon nursery.  My poor child was cheerfully sleeping for two hours over lunchtime until I cut it out for him a few weeks ago to prepare him for going to nursery in his nap time instead so that Mummy could do some lunching.  MOTY.

My dear Mother has also decided that at the ripe old age of 72 she should really start using the internet and that I am the person to teach her.  This is a poisoned chalice, believe me.  She is probably the most intelligent woman I know but is a total techno-phobe.  When I was pregnant with Sebastian, Dad bought her a mobile so that I could contact her to drop off Zak to her if I suddenly went into labour.  As the mobile remained turned off in her glove box for a couple of months it was a good job I was able to drive Zak to her house myself when the time came.  A few weeks later she broke down and decided to use it to phone my Dad but when she turned it on it wasn't charged up so she had to walk home anyway.  Bring on the ICT lessons.

Seb is very concerned about my welfare without him around.  "Mummy be lonely", he says, looking terribly worried.  I'm sure that he thinks that he is the one that looks after me rather than the other way around.  Maybe some of the time, after a heavy night, he is right. There was a morning this week when he suggested we should go and lie on my bed and watch some CBeebies until "Mummy feel better".

I don't want to peak too soon.  With my 90 minutes of freedom today I think I will just revel in using the loo on my own and perhaps decadently have a bath in the middle of the day, just because I can.