This blog entry was intended to be a brief collection of highlights and lowlights from our recent first holiday as a new family of four. After the first ‘lowlight’ went on for more than 600 words I decided to grant it an entry all of its own. Contrary to the shaky start, we actually went on to have a fantastic holiday, which you can read more about in my next instalment.
Duped by Google’s five-hour journey time estimate, we were dismayed to discover that a medley of roadworks, accidents and traffic jams meant it actually took us closer to nine hours to drive from the South East to the South West of the country. Our journey was punctuated with two-year old Tinytoes throwing toys onto Microtoes and then screaming to have them back again. If we refused, her screams would intensify. If we arched backwards over the front seats Houdini-style to prise the toys out of the iron grip of her nine-month old sister, Microtoes would then wail in protest. Unfortunately for poor Microtoes we generally opted for returning the toys to her older sister, because if we didn’t, Tinytoes’ cries tender to be louder, went on for longer and were more distracting to the driver.
The ultimate lowlight came just as I was congratulating myself for finally managing to get Tinytoes to eat a whole load of fruit. A whiney voice piped up “Get down. Get down please.” We told her we knew it was a long journey but we were now only 30 minutes away so she had to stay put. Suddenly something caught DaddyO’s attention in the rear-view mirror. We could only look on in horror as Tinytoes proceeded to slowly regurgitate everything she had eaten thus far that day. It went everywhere.
We stopped the car as soon as we could – in a layby by a row of houses – where we placed our pallid two-year old on the grassy verge and stripped her down to her nappy. Amidst the commotion, Microtoes awoke from her brief nap and began wailing for food. I went to take her in my arms, handing DaddyO some spare clothes (for Tinytoes, though he could have done with some for himself) who was trying to clean up Tinytoes with baby wipes. It was when he shoved her in my lap, with strands of sick still in her hair, in order to get the bigger lumps out of the car seat that I began to wonder: how on earth would I have coped if I had been on my own?! Bearing in mind my lap also contained Microtoes, whom I’d been trying to feed but was now being literally kicked off and was teetering headfirst towards the foot-well of the driver’s seat. We could barely manage with two adults…
At that moment, a kind Cornish lady appeared from one of the houses, bin liner in hand, for us to dispose of the larger remains of sick that DaddyO was decanting into plastic nappy bags and empty Costa coffee cups. She offered both DaddyO and I to use her bathroom and to wash our hands. She was the woman I had seen silently arrive in her car minutes earlier and I had muttered under my breath because she had not asked if we were ok or even so much as given a sympathy smile in our direction. She had, in fact, gone above and beyond normal kindness levels and served as a timely reminder never to judge people or situations.
When we finally arrived at our destination, dusk had fallen and we were too tired to appreciate the beauty of the farmyard complex we were staying it. The reception had long closed and a key was left in our cottage door.
The knock at the door came at the worst possible time. DaddyO was getting the rest of the sick off Tinytoes in the bath and I was breastfeeding Microtoes. The owner of the cottages looked a bit taken aback by our brusque reception. Unable to leave our sleepy, sick-encrusted two-year-old alone in the bath for more than a few seconds, I heard DaddyO gruffly saying ‘yes, ok, yes ok, thank you very much goodbye.’ I leapt up off the bed, Microtoes still clamped onto me, shouting out ‘…and the washing machines? Is it ok to use the washing machines later tonight?’
She nodded, quickly indicating where they were as she closed the door. I had wanted to apologise for our demeanour and to say how beautiful her cottage looked. That would have to wait until the next morning. First things first, we needed to wash the car seat cover, soft toys and clothes that were in the back of the car. Not the best of starts, but at least we had arrived. I was just glad I had had the foresight to pack two bottles of lager in the cool bag.
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Calamitous Mummy 