My secret date

A champagne orgasm hasn’t been the only highlight of this week.

I also managed to escape the daily grind for a sneaky night out with DD.

He scored a room at the Intercontinental for a work conference thingy and invited me over to steal the toiletries (actually, I did that on the sly) and paint the town beige.

It was my night with the kids, so I begged a favour from my ex, asking if he’d mind terribly hopping straight off a flight from Melbourne (where he’d been since Sunday for work) and picking them up. As a sweetener I said I’d make sure they were fed and had their lunchboxes packed for school the next day.

So, after doing the art class and skipping run, I plonked some leftovers in front of the kids and bolted.

DD and I sipped a bottle of Jansz bubbly (a Chrissie gift from work that I smuggled into the hotel), then headed to Opera Kitchen to gaze at the glittering Harbour Bridge while sipping wine and snacking on dodgy, outrageously over-priced slider burgers and fries (that gave me heartburn at 3am).

But the crappy food didn’t matter, it was SUCH a gorgeous spot and SO nice to have a chat with DD.

The chances to catch up have been few and far between in recent weeks and will continue to be sparse in the lead-up to Christmas.

It felt quite lonely coming home to an empty house on Wednesday night after guzzling vintage champagne at my work ‘do and having no one to chitter chatter to about it all. The same went for waking up alone on Thursday morning.

Though I’m not sure how DD would cope with me talking a mile a minute to him at dawn every morning. My brain and motor mouth snap into action the moment my eyelids open, he takes a little longer to get up to speed.

The house got its buzz back last night when the kids returned from their dad’s place. I decided we’d better get the Christmas tree sorted, though it was the last thing I felt like doing after my big night out. The eldest is going away on a band trip on Saturday and won’t be back until December 21 … she needs to get a bit of festive spirit into her emo bones before then.

My ex dropped by with some spending money for her, stayed for a beer and lots of panicked last-minute travel advice, then I put a CD of Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse singing Christmas carols into the stereo and we got to work.

Our Christmas tree and its decorations are a shambolic affair, but filled with happy memories. I’ll never forget how the kids would get their tub of plastic animals out and arrange them in the branches as they played imaginary games.

Those days are over. A bit like the days of them stripping to their undies during the sultry school holidays and jumping around squealing like loons as I sprayed them with a hose on the trampoline.

I’ll miss that giggling!

It’s been replaced by other blessings, but they grow up too soon. You don’t know what you’ve got til its gone and all that …

Here are some pics from the past few days. Wow there’s been a lot of bubbly in this week, my poor liver:

Jansz with a city view.

Rose with a bridge view.

Someone delivered cherries and mangoes to my boss and forgot to put a card on it, so we split the spoils.

The rag-tag Christmas tree.

The dog got decorated too.

How’s your liver surviving the festive season?

Song of the day: The Jackson 5 “Can You Feel It?”