Usually DH and I have very relaxed evenings. I put DS to bed about 7pm, quickly tidy the flat, brush my teeth and bit of lippy & perfume, DH arrives homes about 7.30, I prepare dinner, we eat at the table and have a chat, then laze on the sofas watching TV / surfing the net, and then I tidy kitchen and we head to bed about 11ish, usually have a ready
Hardly like I am rushed off my feet. I love our evenings together.
And yet, and yet.... I bloody LOVE the odd night that DH is away with work. I really look forward to it! I put DS to bed, then I slip into my PJs, bung in a microwave meal, sit and watch my crap TV that DH hates, and mindlessly surf the net, buying clothes that I shouldn't buy as we are about to pay the deposit on our first house. I drag myself off to bed, much later than normal, quick teethbrush, light a candle (can't usually as make DH sneeze!) spreadeagle myself across the bed and aaaaahhhhh big bed to myself. Bliss. Heaven.
I feel a tad guilty as DH working so bloody hard, in sweden atm, didn't even go out with a colleague this time and when he rang I could tell he was trying to prolong the conversation but no ways was I wasting this precious alone time so I hurried the conversation along!
Am I alone in this? AIBU??!!!