A combination of blind optimism and complete denial has led to the title of this post.
It refers to the 6 months of single-motherhood I will be inflicting upon myself as of Jan 2nd next year i.e. in less than 3 weeks. I will be beginning this odyssey, nay, this enjoyable adventure with a 12 hour lone flight with a 16 month old and a 3 1/2 year old. Because that’s the kind of fun person I am. Do you want to sit next to us on the plane??? We’ll be bringing snacks and fun loud books to read, and pajamas!! My children are super cute! No, really they don’t hate you, they’re just tired/ think the TV is more interesting than you are.
We’re gonna go to a snowy drizzly cold place. Cos that’s cool. California is so passe. Sorry if you’ve just moved here, but its true. Eventually our cold drizzly snowy place will get warmer and then we will spend all our time in pub gardens, or in our own little garden with a BBQ. No-one will get hurt or die. I will totally cope on my own, no really. I will. It will be fun. Its going to be a blast! And everyone’s gonna come round and help right???
Previously, whenever I’ve been going through rough child times I have always thought, at least I’m not a single mother, that would be awful, I don’t know how they cope. And its good to face your worst fears, right? It’ll be an adrenaline rush.
When I’m finished I’m going to fall off a high ridge on a mountain, cos I’m shit scared of that too.