Well, we moved the bedrooms round.
After 3 years of letting the kids have their own rooms, which were wasted, wasted on them, we managed to convince the older two to share again (I don't know what kind of twilight world we have slipped into), O has his own room, and Dave and I finally got our light, airy, lovely main bedroom back.
For the first time in 3 years I have my own space, it's quiet, it's peaceful, I am getting loads done and I am absolutely kicking butt.
Except I'm not really.
We are getting new heating in this time next week, so we have SO MUCH TO DO, I don't even know where to begin.
Dave is on one - he literally spends all day sitting at his computer moaning about how busy he isn't at work, then tonight he sauntered out to the shops with all three kids, reappearing at 6pm, kids eating handfuls of sweets, and having missed O's dance class, which was PAID FOR, dammit!
It's not 6.20pm and I have left him to make tea, because apparently he "has a plan", and I literally WADED through bin bags and sacks of old books and socks and other nonsense to come back up to my new happy place.
EVERYTHING needs decorated.
There's some really sad washing on the line outside which has been there for days because of endless rain and my inability to deal with it.
There's about ten bin bags in the driveway and general waste collection isn't until next week.
Yes, the boys are sharing a room, but Tom's bed is going to have to come apart so the workmen can access the radiator (haven't told Dave yet - not sure he has realised).
We've hired an Air BnB situation down the road for the shittest 'holiday' ever where we have to decamp and sit with the three anti-social dogs for two days. We *might* get to come home overnight. Eek.
Work is mental just now - I am exhausted.
And we have a week.
To pull a de-cluttered and clean house out of our bums.
Pray for Genna.