30 August 2015

Oh, my bags are packed...

Ok. After writing list after list after list (after list) for our week's trip to Scotland I have packed what I believed to be a 'restrained' amount of belongings into one suitcase...then had to sit on top of the bastard thing to get it zipped shut. Why on earth do kids need so much stuff? Clothes and shoes and rain coats and emergency clothes and grobags and night light and blackout blinds and muzzies and toys and books and Calpol and swim gear...and I tried to really pare it down. It's insane. At one point I genuinely considered just wearing my travel clothes for the whole week as there didn't seem to be any space for so much as a clean pair of pants for Mama! I've had to sacrifice the blasted hairdryer and don't even know where I'm going to slot the toothbrushes come 7am??
Husband and I haven't flown together since 2008 (damn kids!) and it would appear I have totally forgotten everything I ever knew about airports and have turned into an anxiety-ridden stress-head. For this trip I have checked in online then checked I did it correctly three times. I only want to take one suitcase as I'm travelling on my own with the boys but if I have 20kg allowance and Toddler has 20kg allowance can I take one bag that weighs 23kg? I have checked my passport is in the bag four times so far this evening. I keep wandering around the house grabbing random items and staring at them frantically, will I need this?? Should I have packed this?? Is this crucial for the week ahead?? Probably not, it's a small plastic Minion, let's calm the fuck down...
I should probably head to bed as I will, no doubt, be awake every 30-40mins convinced we've slept through the alarm or that we're standing around naked at airport security...
Life with kids, folks. I used to book last minute trips with Husband, grab a rucksack and bam, we'd be drinking coffee under the Eiffel Tower within hours. Create two children and all of a sudden, everything is different. Even if you decide kids won't change your jet-setting lifestyle they come with a LOT of stuff, physically and emotionally. When there's just the two of you, naptimes aren't really a massive consideration. If your Husband is an asshole at JFK you just have a blazing row, throw him a donut and a double espresso and tell him to grow up. That approach doesn't really cut it with an 18m old baby who hasn't slept in 24hrs and who has sore ears... Running through airports to catch connections is a lot less 'adventure movie' and a lot more 'tear-inducing' when you're dragging Toddler on a trunki and Baby does a massive poo. Plus there's the ever-present worry that you might, you know, crash into a mountain side and die a fiery death... This seems almost exciting when you're young, free and still having sex in airport bathrooms. Once you have kids? Fuck no, too dangerous, cargo too precious, let's all stay at home wrapped in cotton wool and learn about foreign countries on t'Internet. 
Well, anyway. Have packed everything and checked everything and checked everything again so may as well go. Nana is waiting and we want our children to grow up with a love of travel and adventure, no better way to start than a short haul flight to Inverness. 
What's the worst that could happen?!
(Radio silence from here on in, I'm afraid, unplugging for the sake of my babies xxx)

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