It's the first week of the summer holidays. Nothing specific planned. What to do? Already done Chester zoo, the aqua park, this playground, that playground, a couple of play dates. Shall we go and visit Aunty G in London? "Yayyyyy!" come the happy cries. Okay then, and while we're there we may as well go and visit my old chum, Susan, who has also recently procreated again. Perfect opportunity to introduce our new additions to one another. Okee doke. Alpha Male? Can't get Thursday, Friday off. No problem, I'll drive down - you take the train Saturday morning. Are you sure? Yup, no problem. I've driven to Scotland a couple of times with 3 already. M6 South can't be that much different from M6 North can it? Can it?
6 hours of a 3 hour journey later and we arrive bedraggled, covered in crumbs, Fruit Shoot, melted buttons (don't judge me for my children's travelling diet but desperate times, desperate measures) and in immediate need of a shower. On the other hand I feel surprisingly like Superwoman having successfully driven into zone 3 with 3 small kids in a large, environmentally unfriendly vehicle without getting lost. Not once. Me. Without sat nav. And a sense of direction that was last seen several years ago, wandering around the Amazon jungle. Lovely Aunty G has dinner ready and Uncle H duly takes up his role of entertaining the munchkins whilst I unpack, wash, change a nappy and gulp down a glass of wine.
Next morning sis-in-law pushes her sat nav into my hand, "but I have already worked out my route on google maps" I say, "trust me" she replies "this is better, you won't have to keep looking down at a map, just listen to the directions". OK, sounds good. Google maps showed me a seemingly reasonable route on the ring road to West London, surely the sat nav will produce a similar or simpler route. The sat nav gave me a time of 29 mins. What I didn't realise is that this sat nav had no idea just how congested central London is... I leave N8 and arrive 2 hours later, via Euston, Baker street and a variety of other Monopoly board names, a little less well-pressed with a grumpy baby in W4.
Despite this, I had a fab catch up with a very dear friend and we laughed and cried our way through the afternoon, eating the fine food she had prepared for us, feeding our babies together and reminiscing over wild times gone by. Our kids had a ball together: running around her big garden and my 2 loved playing with all the unfamiliar toys their new little friend produced. Early evening approached and it was time to go. Shortly before we left, Susan offered us something to drink... "No better not" said this experienced mother "otherwise we'll need to do a 'wee' stop on the way back. The children were duly toileted before leaving, but as we got in the car, 2 year old wee girl E spotted an empty fruit shoot bottle from the day before, "I want juice" she tells me "its empty darling, you can have a drink when we get to Aunty G's house" I reply. Cue back arching and screaming. "I have some fruit shoots in the fridge" Susan says helpfully "great, thanks" I gratefully reply, completely forgetting all my good sense of earlier. Nevermind. We now have one quiet toddler. And her older brother is happy too. So we set off. On a new route. A quicker one I'm assured.
An hour into the journey the call from the back comes from the wee girl: "Mummy, I need a wee wee". "Okay darling, we'll be there soon" I lie. A few moments later and with greater earnest "mummy, I need a wee wee", a tinge of desperation in her voice at the end. Over the next few minutes, the cries get higher pitched and more anxious. And the streets of London, they do not have the grassy parking places complete with the modesty preserving shrubbery of Cheshire. The traffic is terrible and there really is nowhere to stop. Suddenly we grind to a halt. Ah, the roadworks I was warned about. GREAT. Wee girl E starts to cry. She hates to have accidents. Not like her older brother. At that age he would have happily released into his car seat. We creep into a tunnel and again grind to a halt. What am I to do? "Do you want one of baby S's nappies on?" "Yes!" comes the relieved cry. Good. She hasn't forgotten what to do with a nappy then. The traffic is static. Shall I risk it? I instruct 4 year old big boy A to watch the car in front, and I spring into action. I grab the size 3 nappy from the changing bag, climb onto the arm rest between seats, undo wee girl's seat belt, leggings down and just manage to fit the too-small nappy on. "Mum, its moving!" advises big boy. Damn it, they'll just have to wait. Hoot all you want. You can wait 30 seconds to travel the 10 metres the car in front has just crawled. Leggings up, toddler strapped back in. Sit down, seat belt on. Crawl 10 metres. I glance in the rear view mirror and see my daughter now looking relieved and smiling back at me. Result.
"Mummy, I need a wee-wee" says the big boy in the back. Oh no. Not again. "A, you will have to wait. We'll be at Aunty G's soon." I reply determinedly. "But mummy, I'm desperate" I give an exasperated sigh, this traffic ain't going nowhere fast and I cannot listen to more whinging for another half hour. I spot the empty fruit shoot bottle. We have just ground to a halt again, still in the dark tunnel. Should I? Really? Is this a good idea? Will it give him ideas in the future? What the heck, it's a risk I'll have to take. "Here A, use this" Cheeky smile, belt off, trousers down "Mummy I can't do it sitting down" I look either side of us, its dark in here. "Stand up, quick", a happy look of relief, warm bottle returned, top screwed on - tight, trousers up, sit down, belt on. Crawl forward to catch up with car in front, we come out of the tunnel... finally.
Baby boy S starts to cry. Oh great. He must need his nappy changing.....
Despite this, I had a fab catch up with a very dear friend and we laughed and cried our way through the afternoon, eating the fine food she had prepared for us, feeding our babies together and reminiscing over wild times gone by. Our kids had a ball together: running around her big garden and my 2 loved playing with all the unfamiliar toys their new little friend produced. Early evening approached and it was time to go. Shortly before we left, Susan offered us something to drink... "No better not" said this experienced mother "otherwise we'll need to do a 'wee' stop on the way back. The children were duly toileted before leaving, but as we got in the car, 2 year old wee girl E spotted an empty fruit shoot bottle from the day before, "I want juice" she tells me "its empty darling, you can have a drink when we get to Aunty G's house" I reply. Cue back arching and screaming. "I have some fruit shoots in the fridge" Susan says helpfully "great, thanks" I gratefully reply, completely forgetting all my good sense of earlier. Nevermind. We now have one quiet toddler. And her older brother is happy too. So we set off. On a new route. A quicker one I'm assured.
An hour into the journey the call from the back comes from the wee girl: "Mummy, I need a wee wee". "Okay darling, we'll be there soon" I lie. A few moments later and with greater earnest "mummy, I need a wee wee", a tinge of desperation in her voice at the end. Over the next few minutes, the cries get higher pitched and more anxious. And the streets of London, they do not have the grassy parking places complete with the modesty preserving shrubbery of Cheshire. The traffic is terrible and there really is nowhere to stop. Suddenly we grind to a halt. Ah, the roadworks I was warned about. GREAT. Wee girl E starts to cry. She hates to have accidents. Not like her older brother. At that age he would have happily released into his car seat. We creep into a tunnel and again grind to a halt. What am I to do? "Do you want one of baby S's nappies on?" "Yes!" comes the relieved cry. Good. She hasn't forgotten what to do with a nappy then. The traffic is static. Shall I risk it? I instruct 4 year old big boy A to watch the car in front, and I spring into action. I grab the size 3 nappy from the changing bag, climb onto the arm rest between seats, undo wee girl's seat belt, leggings down and just manage to fit the too-small nappy on. "Mum, its moving!" advises big boy. Damn it, they'll just have to wait. Hoot all you want. You can wait 30 seconds to travel the 10 metres the car in front has just crawled. Leggings up, toddler strapped back in. Sit down, seat belt on. Crawl 10 metres. I glance in the rear view mirror and see my daughter now looking relieved and smiling back at me. Result.
"Mummy, I need a wee-wee" says the big boy in the back. Oh no. Not again. "A, you will have to wait. We'll be at Aunty G's soon." I reply determinedly. "But mummy, I'm desperate" I give an exasperated sigh, this traffic ain't going nowhere fast and I cannot listen to more whinging for another half hour. I spot the empty fruit shoot bottle. We have just ground to a halt again, still in the dark tunnel. Should I? Really? Is this a good idea? Will it give him ideas in the future? What the heck, it's a risk I'll have to take. "Here A, use this" Cheeky smile, belt off, trousers down "Mummy I can't do it sitting down" I look either side of us, its dark in here. "Stand up, quick", a happy look of relief, warm bottle returned, top screwed on - tight, trousers up, sit down, belt on. Crawl forward to catch up with car in front, we come out of the tunnel... finally.
Baby boy S starts to cry. Oh great. He must need his nappy changing.....
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