Is me.


I am so grumpy. Have been for the past couple of days.

And finally, this morning I admitted to myself it’s because I’m dreading our impending trip to India. Which is on Saturday by the way. I realised this because this morning I found myself doing anything to avoid starting to pack for the trip.

Yes, it sounds ridiculous. I am dreading going on holiday. Except really our annual trip to India with the kids is not a holiday. It’s so much work.

This is not me being disparaging about India. I am extremely excited and happy to go to India without the kids. But with the kids, it’s us falling sick, them being clingy, us not being used to handling them 24/7. And it’s so depressing because in India there are 10,000 things I want to do, but I can’t do because the kids are there. It’s like being in a candy store but not being allowed to eat anything. Hmph. The way to solve this is for me to do a separate trip myself, which is most likely going to happen this year, except, I can never be 100% sure (remember Bali) so I’m resentful in advance. And of course, the inevitable illness doesn’t thrill me.

(Yes, I know I’ve said all this before. I say it every year. Just in case someone here doesn’t quite get why I’m so negative about the whole thing).

I also realised that I am reacting not just to the coming trip but to the prospect of moving back which is a looming real prospect. So each horrible trip with the kids becomes a premonition of my whole life a couple of years down the line which makes me want to just lie down and give up the ghost.

Just last week, or was it a couple of day’s ago, I was telling MinCat that I’m actually feeling a bit excited about the whole thing (i.e. the holiday not moving to India permanently. I’m not going to be exited about that, until something dramatic happens like Harvard offers me a job and Harvard sets up shop in India). But this morning, with just a couple of days to go, I found myself dragging my feet to get going with the innumerable chores related to the trip.

And maybe that’s part of it. First the packing, and just not being sure whether I’m packing right. You’d think I’d have got this down, but somehow ever since the kids, I don’t think I’ve got a handle on my own packing. Like either I land up overpacking, or I run out of clothes when I’m there, and I now realise it’s because with the kids, I never know what I’m going to be doing – am I going to be stuck in the house all day? Or will I actually go places where a decent top would be needed?

Then there is the whole rigmarole of buying presents for people back home. Weirdly, this year my mom has not said a word about it; usually, she calls and nags me to ‘just get something for [insert random aunt or neighbour]’. Or maybe by now she knows I’m well-trained enough to get appropriate amounts of chocolate for people. Or she’s given up on me, no scratch that, my mom doesn’t give up in these matters.

Also, people’s requests will come in at the absolute last minute. So today we traipsed across town to buy a sexy Santa costume. Which was still okay because the person it was for also did the same for me though I urged her not to.

Then, to places to buy chocolates at a discount. And I found myself thinking, all the people I buy chocolates for actually get a regular supply of imported chocolates anyway and are so damn wealthy, I wonder if they even appreciate it. While I am calculating the cost of it all in my head. Only after I had dragged myself to a second shop which I hoped would have better selection did I realise that I could have just given the kids money and saved myself the time and weight.

Dammit I am so grumpy.