Life with a Shiftworker

We're getting used to this now. I know the week must be the night-shift week (ie 7 nights straight), when:

• LMM physically dreads going to work for the weekend ahead. The worst shift is 2200-0900h, 1800-0400h is much better;
• I stay up late most nights alone, too late, and end up dog-tired too. It's as if I'm staying up in sympathy, but that's dumb, because I get to sleep in the bed all by myself, which should be nice for a change;
• I shift clothes and stuff into the boys bathroom so I can shower after the gym quietly;
• I harass the boys to be quiet in the flat, or trawl around town trying to stay out as long as possible;
• A bleary-eyed man sends sms from the bedroom seeking tea and sympathy;
• I'm starting to hoard the clean clothes by about Thursday, planning the packing for 3 for the week ahead - washing and sorting outfits so we're ready for the next trip;
• I'm packing in the early evenings of the weekend, while staying out as long as possible during the days: passports, the right gear, the right bags, what else don't they need, empty the fridge?
• We pour the boys and LMM into some plane on the Monday and go.

The week after, it takes until about Wednesday for him to function again and the holiday really starts. We've used this week for something really good and new every month. This time, it's off to ski in Austria. Flying into Munich, oh we're in the swing of it now - and a car to collect straight away at the airport! And the switch into German won't be hard, it's only been a month. Accommodation organised by cousin, who changed accommodation at the last minute, to ensure we'd get plenty of snow. Exciting stuff - and so easy, we're here, used to eachothers' ways on holidays now. But yes, much the easier for us, having them there.

Next time Turkey, after that France! On our own then.