Kids TV

I very much have a love/hate relationship with children’s TV. Over the last 2 years, I have grown to enjoy a few. I have catogorised them. We have the ‘I actually cannot fucking watch this, no way thank you!’, we then have ‘it’s totally mind numbing but he likes it, so ok’ and ‘I bloody love this and I will watch it when you’re not even here’.

Category 1 – ‘I actually cannot fucking watch this, no way thank you!’ – One (of many) in this catogory for me has to be ‘Teletubbies’ – yes it’s STILL going! How I’ve know idea but I cannot watch those ‘tubby’ coloured weird things pottering around the place making noises…they can ride a bike, why don’t they talk!!!!??? And a baby for a sun…REALLY! Then there’s the infuriating screening of ‘Show me show me’ which literally sends me into melt down mode! NO, DONT SHOW ME! Its shite and who cares where Miss a Mouse and Stuffy are!!!

Category 2 – it’s totally mind numbing but he likes it, so ok’ – this, for me, has to be ‘Rastamouse’. Whilst I do find myself laughing, it’s not because I think they are that funny, it’s because its so rubbish I cant help but giggle. I may have to consider never putting it on again if the ‘easy crew’ don’t pull up their pants! Perhaps it’s because I’m getting on a bit and not totally ‘down with the kids’ these days! Also in this category, I have Topsy and Tim. Whilst I don’t mind it, I find it frustrating trying to come to terms with the fact that firstly, they aren’t twins at all! (WHATTTT!!!) secondly, their mum was on Eastenders playing Max Brannings lover! Thirdly, their mum isn’t actually the mother to either of them! (again, WHATTTT!), fourthly they are playing the part of 4 year olds dispite being about 8! And lastly, the episodes on them moving house dragged on so much, I no longer give a shit about the fact that topsy and tim don’t want to move! Pack up and piss off already! It’s totally annoying!

Category 3 – I bloody love this and I will watch it when you’re not even here’ – My all time favourite Mickey Mouse! I love it! Infact, the disney channel is a favourite in our house. We love disney! Also making it into this caroeoft is ‘The Clangers’ have to give a special mention. They’ve just returned after last being aired between 1969-1972, those mouse creature things are back on our screens eating green soup from the soup dragon on their small blue planet! I Archie loves that programme (despite them speaking in whistle)!

How much kids TV do you watch? 

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️


Breast or bottle?

A topic that is widely discussed with lots of different opinions! A topic that when people write about it, it makes mums everywhere clench their bum cheeks.

We are told and reminded daily whether it be via social media, blogs or tv adverts that breast is best. And they are right. It is. In the first few days our baby gets everything they need from us to build up immunity and the important colostrum we produce is passed onto them. It’s a chance to bond with your baby as well as taking confidence knowing you are giving them the best you can. 

It’s not always that simple though.

We all know breast feeding is not only natural it’s also great for bonding, great for little ones and great for helping loose weight and tighten those stomach muscles without any actual excercises, BUT sometimes it sounds far easier than it actually is. Breast feeding can be extremly stressful and it doesn’t always come naturally. There can be latching problems, problems with milk production, infection, soreness, lack of confidence and on some occasions, a lot of pain. Not to mention those mums that have had things such as breast cancer. Some mums find it easy. Some find it very difficult. Some don’t stress about how much milk their little ones are getting and some do nothing but think about it! We are all different. 

The pressure of breastfeeding is sometimes enough to put new mums off altogether and when I had my little one 2 years ago, It was so brutally embedded into my head that I had no other option. I was always going to feed myself, I didn’t need a midwife to tell me I would be a terrible mother if I didn’t. 

My little one had trouble latching on and having just had a nasty 38 hour labour resulting in an emergency C section I also had trouble holding him in the right positions. I had my breasts man handled by far too many people trying to assist and by the end of my 4 days in hospital I wasn’t feeling confidant at all and I had an extremly sore left boob! I did stress about it, I did worry about how much milk he was actually getting. It did hurt (a lot!), I did cry, not only when feeding but when I knew a feed was due on anticipation of the pain. I fed on demand for a very hungry little boy who was feeding every hour on the hour. I tried, very hard, to make things easier for us both. There was feeding pillows, breast pumps (not pretty!), nipple shields…you name it, I had it. Along with the million breast pads I had on hand. God help you if you fogot to put one of those on before you left the house…hello wet nips!

The struggle to feed on both sides was a daily battle and il’d express using what can only be described as a farming tool. As natural as this was, neither myself nor my baby took to it like duck to water. It was a daily battle and it was totally and utterly mentally, physically and emotionally draining. I felt trapped, unprepared (despite having a breastfeeding lady come out to me and watching countless videos on how to latch properly) and alone. I didn’t like to feed in public (a personal choice) so going out was brief. I went onto doing both breast and formula feeds (at least daddy could help with the night feeds) and eventually came to the decision, after weeks of crying and feeling guilty about even thinking about it, to stop breastfeeding. I expressed as much as I could and stored it up but eventually that run out and my little one was solely on formula. A decision that was not an easy one to reach. 

Breastfeeding is hard, never underestimate it. Those first few days can be enough to send you over the edge. Your boobs hurt, you have them squeezed by strangers a lot and it’s all new! No matter what others say, this is YOUR choice, and as much as I would encourage everyone to feed themselves (numerous health benifits not to mention no washing bottles, no waiting for a bottle to cool or kettle to boil and no cost!) and battle through as it does get easier, if you can’t do it or it’s causing you to question your existence, that’s ok! It’s ok to consider other options, it’s ok to express and give a bottle, it’s ok to introduce formula and mix the two, it’s ok when you come to the decision (which isn’t easy let me tell you…guilt does set in) to move onto to formula and give it up and it’s ok if you decide not to feed yourself at all. It’s ok because its your choice and ultimately when you come to a decision it’ll be the right one for you. Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel pressured and don’t feel alone, there are millions of mums right there with you when your crying at 2am after trying to get your baby to latch onto a cracked raw nipple for the last hour or preparing your first bottle is all too much. You’re not alone what ever your decision! Don’t be enemies or judge. We’ve all got each others back and we all have something in common. We’re all called mummy!

Happy mummy, happy baby! 

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️

The Struggles Of A Working Mum

Your maternity leave is on the horizon and you’ve decided to take a whole year off.

The day finally arrives and after the struggle of trying to keep up whilst carrying a humungous belly around with you on your commute, its time to enjoy day 1 of 365…

Your spring clean is in full swing and you have literally scrubbed your house within an inch of its life. The baby’s clothes have been washed, ironed and folded more times than your mums old towel she’s had since 1865 and you’ve stocked the freezer with pre made dinners ready for the months ahead. Your prep is done and re done and done again!

Then comes the wait…the aggonising wait that leaves you wondering with every flinch, kick or tiny bit of wee that slips out (yes that happens towards a the end!) whether this was it! Was this baby coming!!!??

Just when i’ld given up waiting and totally got my head around the fact that it just wasn’t going to happen and I would quite possibly end up being pregnant forever, my waters broke! It was midnight and I still wasn’t sure if this meant the baby was coming or i’ld just wet myself?

Nope. The baby was definately coming, all be it not for another long painful 38 hours when we welcomed a tiny wrinkley baggy skinned boy into the world via C section.

And maternity leave was now official…I was a mummy and I had almost a year to nurture my new baby and watch him get a little personally. How lucky was I!

Nobody can prepare you for the amazing, exhausting, excillarating ride ahead. The ride that takes you on such  a journey to the deepest of places in your heart that suddenly you wonder if you new what love really was before this moment. The ride that has lots of ups and downs but you could stay on it forever!

Until those 365 days are over and it’s time to return to work! Where the fuck did that go!?

In the time I had with my baby whist on maternity leave, we built a bond that is so unbelievably incredible that words fail me. I’ve watched my baby grow, learn and go through developmental leaps, as well as reach milestones, smile for the first, start eating, sit up on his own, roll over and much much more…looking back over the year, we’ve had a ball, despite the days that he just wouldn’t settle, the ridiculous weird colorued dirty nappies I’ve changed and being wee’d on more times than I’ve showered! The year was totally mind blowing!

The call comes from work and you’ve agreed the terms for your return…and then it hits you…I’m going to have to leave my baby!

The search for the best childcare options is on! Childminder? Nursery? Nanny? Oh god, where do I start!

We decided on a nursery due the hours I needed and not being able to find a childminder locally that had the availability I needed at this time. So I arranged a visit. It was lovley, the staff were friendly, the place was clean, the food encouraged a healthy balanced diet, they were graded outstanding by Ofsted and the children all looked like they were having fun. So I signed up and our settling in sessions began.

The first session was relatively short and I stayed with him the whole time, wondering how on earth I was going to get up and leave him in the hands of people I didn’t know a few days a week whilst I went to work…how did parents do it? The second session I was encouraged to leave him for a while, and so with a heavy heart, I kissed him goodbye and left the room…he didn’t give mummy a second look! I went 20 metres round the corner (literally…just incase) and for the the first time since becoming a mummy, I had my nails done! Yep, I did and although it was lovely I spent the whole time checking my phone incase they had called. Did I have signal? Did I write my number down correctly?

I returned to see my little boy having fun, without mummy! As heartbreaking as it was for me that he felt he was ok without me, he was enjoying himself and quite frankly didn’t give a shit about me. I suppose it’s better than watching him have a melt down!

The first day of work arrived and the morning routine was totally out of sorts, not to mention that we were staying in a hotel waiting for the keys to our new house we were waiting to complete on any day now! His nursery bag was packed and it was time to do it…it was time to go to work! (Waaaaaa!!!)

The car journey was mainly spent keeping things as normal as possible trying to reassure my precious little one that it would be ok and that mummy would be back at the end of the day. We arrived at nursery and it was time to go in…

The girls were lovely and Archie seemed ok, so ok infact that he went off playing without giving me a second glance. We stayed for a little while to check he was happy and reluctantly, after quite a lot of pushing and bugging from my husband, we left, closing the door behind us! I should have worn waterproof mascara!

The tears began and my freshly done makeup which I managed to put on (a rarity but I couldn’t turn up to work after a year looking worse for wear) was totally ruined!

Standing on the platform I could literaly feel my heart bleeding! I was hurting, hurting so much! It’s like I’ld lost a limb and il’d only been gone 10 minutes. Would he be ok? What would happen when he realises I wasn’t there in a few hours?, Will they change his bum regularly?, Will the other children be kind to him? Should I just go home? The questions were endless and they whirled around in my brain over and over. I knew he’d be ok. I wouldn’t have left him if I really had any doubt.

Stood on the station platform watching trains come and go waiting for mine was tourture. I could almost see the nursery building in the distance hoping I was making the right decision, besides, I was going back to work so we could give him everything we possibly can, right?

The train pulls in and it’s the last chance to back out…I got on.

I sat down and for the first time in a year, listened to the driver tannoy over that there were delays. Of corse there were! Here we go again!

My first day at work was mainly spent crying, putting on a brave face and inundating nursery with calls to check up on him, longing for the clock to reach 5.30pm so I could get back to him. The weeks followed and were very similar, people said this would get easier!!?

Then came the days when separation anxiety kicked in and he would just sob at the nursery gates whilst climbing up to my head refusing to let go of whatever part of me he had clung onto (usually my hair or kneck but occasionally a boob…that hurt!). If it wasn’t bad enough before, things just got cranked up a notch.

Walking away from your baby who is sobbing just wanting you to stay with them has to be THE hardest thing I have ever had to do. It goes against every instict in your body and tugs so hard at those heart strings it makes you feel sick. Your whole body goes into melt down and you question everything. Was this worth it? Could we live in a shoe like the little old lady to keep the costs down?

Despite all of this and a year down the line, it doesn’t get much easier. It still breaks my heart to leave him 3 days a week (even though he has fun). When he falls ill with a cold or just doesn’t want to leave me on the odd day he’s not feeling 100% and would much prefer to cuddle up on the sofa with mummy (me too!), those are the worst days…those are the days that I stand on that platform and once again have to deal with the guilt of being a working mum, along with the pain that  shoots through my heart like someone has burst it! Then you see a mum taking her toddler to London for the day and it deflates you even more!

But, he has fun with his friends, he is learning to be very independant (and stubborn) and the bright little boy he is, is flourishing and excelling himself…I couldn’t be prouder. So the days when I feel like the worst mother in the world, I know when I pick him up later and see his little face light up whilst he tells me what he has done that day, that I will remember why I work in the first place. To make sure my children have all that I can give them. That includes the time away from us to allow them to be independant, put into practice what mummy and daddy has taught them, learn about the world around them, open up opportunities for them and come to realise that no matter what happens, we will always come back.

Some people enjoy going back to work to surround themsleves with people called ‘adults’ and engage in adult conversation. Some people need to to just be them for the day. Some people enjoy the ‘break’…besides, mummy’s do make the best employees! We can multi task (there’s never just 1 thing to do at any one time), we are punctual (God help you if dinner isn’t served for 4.30pm and you have a hungry toddler on your hands!), we work super well under pressure (pressure? What pressure?), negotiation skills that only top players could posses (if you let me change your bum without fuss all day, you can have lots of TV time at the weekend) and we have more stamina than a kangaroo that can hop 15-20 at a time and stay at full speed for 20 miles! (our working day is 24hours), 9-5 you say? No problem!)…but me, personally, I have my days that I’d prefer to be home with my toddler engaging in coversation about diggers, poo and battling to change bums!

But needs must sometimes and it’s ok. It’s ok because you’ve made sure your children know you love them. It’s ok because you’ve made sure they know you will back. It’s ok because despite the shaky bottom lip, they have fun. It’s ok because even though you teach them, they are still learning without you. It’s ok because they are making friends. It’s ok because they are learning to be independant. It’s ok because they are getting prepared for school…It’s ok because they are loved.

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️


Lunch…the thing that happened every day. It was a given, an automatic stomach rumbling reaction. What you would think about immediately after breakfast and not stop thinking about until it was in your belly! Until I had a baby…

The term ‘baby brain’ is said a lot, and lots of people dismiss it on the assumption it’s just something said when you’re pregnant or just had a little one…its not its a real thing! Literally a medical condition you have no control over and in some instances gives you short term memory loss, like with me…I totally forgot to eat!!! 

Not sure how that happens, and for those that know me will also know just how much I LOVE my grub! Being Italian, my pasta portions aren’t the size of that posh restaurant you once went too and ended up with a McDonald’s chaser later on that evening because you were hungry again. Oh no, my pasta portions usually spill over the edge of the bowl scooped up with a nice piece of proper garlic bread and fill you up for 2 days! Not that I eat it all (well, not all of the time anyway!), but because I might, and it’s better to have too much than not enough, right? But somehow it happens, you just forget to eat. You spend your time concentrating so much on this new little bundle you have the responsibility to feed and look after that you totally neglect yourself, not through want or even being conscious of it but because your mind is so distracted and baby brain is in full swing! Sometimes it would get to 3pm before I’ld realise I hadn’t eaten and only be reminded by my stomach singing ‘like a bat out of hell’ and that little voice in my head reminding me that I needed to eat to give all I can to my baby when he feeds…and to keep me standing! Bloody baby brain! Time to set an alarm for my feeding times too!

You imagine your lunch dates with friends, family, old colleagues and not forgetting those family lunches with daddy…

Lunch dates, now your little one has arrived, have a very different meaning. They no longer involve having conversations with actual sentences that start with a capital and end with a full stop. They tend to go something like this when you have a new born…

“So I was watching This Morning and…what was I saying…”

“I got up this morning to…oh I can’t remember where I was going with this”

“We went for a walk today and I sat down to set my alarms for a feed and …shit, he’s due a feed, catch you later!”

You see a pattern emerging…

And then a toddler

“We were going to a class today and on the way…”

“Don’t do that!”

“Sorry where was I, so, on the way to the class…”

“Stop that now please!”

“We finally got there and he wanted a…”

“That’s enough, we’re going home!”

Yeah…a sentence rarely gets finished!

When you go to lunch with those that don’t have children, they literally have no idea what to do. They usually do one of two things:

  1. Remind you where you stopped your conversation regularly so you can start again.
  2. Let out a ‘that’s fucking annoying’ giggle. 

Whichever one you do, it’s totally ok, we hear ya, we’re thinking the same things and are repeatedly apologising in our heads and occasionally out loud when something really distracting happens! And in the meantime, that catch up you was meant to be having hasn’t allowed you to catch up with anything at all and the £3.95 coffee you ordered (with added syrup, 10 sugars and cream on top just because) has now gone stone cold and starting to fement. 

Lunch is no longer how it used to be and wine is now no longer the main dish (it only puts you to sleep these days anyway!) but it is far more interesting. Besides, it stops you finishing that full fat drink and almond crossant you shouldn’t really be having (but it does mean you can treat yourself to chocolate later because you’ve been good!). 

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️

The clock is ticking – will we be out by 10?

Before you have your baby, you imagine sitting in Costa’s when they arrive looking great at 9am, because you’ll be up all night to get things done, right?

The reality is you’ll finally make it to Costa’s at 4pm when you’ve gotten round to having a shower (or at least seeing running water), slapping some foundation on to hide the blotchy moisture deprived skin and putting your maternity jeans on because they’re comfy and then realising half way through your cold coffee that it’s gone 4pm and you need to get back for the next feed in 10mins!

When my midwife used to come round or I would go to the drop in clinic to have my growing baby weighed once a week, they used to remind me of local baby groups that were on. They all seemed lovely! Baby massage, baby sensory, rhyme time…and then you read the leaflet you folded 58 times to shove in your back pocket for later and realise 98% of them start at 9am! 

Why? Who thought it would be a good idea to start a group for mums with babies from 0-6 months at this time… 9AM…My eyes were are still adjusting to the light and my bra still hanging on the bedroom chair as I slouched on the sofa with my mesmerising newborn! So what makes these people think that you’ll be functional at this ungodly hour? 10am is just about do-able, providing you’ve planned it and gone through the evacuation procedure…that’s if your baby doesn’t decide to poo just as you close the front door! Back we go…late again!

So if you’ve managed to get you and your baby showered/bathed, dressed, hair and makeup done, housework done, dinner prepared, bed made and out of the door by 10am…then embrace that strut because you feel good. You feel so good that you want people to look over and see that pink sparkly Cape you’re wearing glistening in the sun and the gold ‘S’ on your chest reflecting on your Primark sunnies whilst you flick your hair and your lushious curls fall effortlessly back into place …you know why? Because you are fucking Super Mum and everyone should know about it! 

Stay Super!

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️

Hair and Makeup?

Pre baby, my beauty regime wasn’t amazing but it was in existence. It had its place in my daily life, (or more realistically every few days)! I would have my eyebrows regularly tourchered, otherwise known as threaded, have the occasional mani and pedi, shave my legs, exfoliate and even moisturise. My makeup would be to hand and I was a dab hand with a liquid eyeliner! I used to think I wasn’t doing it to the highest of standards, firstly because I couldn’t afford to and secondly because I didn’t have time…


Those were the days when time was at its greatest, I had bags of the stuff! Even when I thought I didn’t have time, I’ld ‘make‘ time…making time these days is trying not to piss yourself after 14 hours of holding in that wee you was meant to of had at 7am but just didn’t get time to go, and finally at 9pm when you’ve eventually got your restless toddler off to sleep (horray!), you remembered just how busting you were and you make time to nip to the loo! 

Daily routine now is managing to roll your tired arse out of your warm bed whilst entertaining a toddler, attempting to brush your teeth with your eyes closed, making it down the mountain of stairs without falling (oh to live in a bungalow!) and putting breakfast on the table for your hungry offspring! Anything above and beyond that, is a bonus!  The thought of hair and make up is now way way WAYYYY down the list! 

My hair is usually up, and by that I mean tied up with a hairband that clearly needs replacing as its starting to pull at your locks, and usually looks like you’ve let your child play hairdressers for the afternoon. My make up, if I can be bothered, is a quick brush of powder and some blusher over my cheek bones to make me look alive (thinking about it, I’m not sure it makes any difference, but at least I try!). You know how rarely your hair and makeup is done when on your yearly night out, your darling husband tells you that you look great and your ‘face looks good’…I’ll take that! I usually look like a short raven attacked scare crow! And I go out that way, it keeps the flurry of men I usually get flocking me as I leave the house at bay (Phahahahahaha!). 

On the VERY rare occasion when your baby sleeps extra long and in between checking them (because they never sleep this long!) you manage to have a shower, wash your hair, dry your hair, style your hair and put some makeup on…feel free to high five yourself, you are fucking amazing! A total achiever! You’re ‘big time’ in the mummy world!

Hair and makeup. Is it important? Is it the end of the world if you don’t manage to put your face on or straighten your hair? Personally, no, it isn’t. What is important is making time for my little one. The time I could have ‘made‘ to do those things, gives me more time to prepare painting activities or run around the garden like a loon because he thinks it’s funny. Even having a full 20 minute conversation with Mr Tumble on the play phone that beeps and talks randomly. Because that’s what I do, that’s what I enjoy and that’s what builds memories. 10 years down the line, I won’t remember that time I took out of my busy day to make myself up (there’s plenty of time for that when my little gets big), but I will remember that time I took to play hide and seek and my toddler giving me a kiss and saying I love you when I found him because I was there and we were making precious memories together. It’s all about prioritising, and my priority will always be my children.

If you get time to do both then you’re raising an angel but if, like me, you have a little monster running you ragid then there is no time to ‘make’ time, you borrow time for yourself until the day comes, (and it will), that your teeny weeny darling baby no longer wants you to play peek-a-boo or help them to the toilet, until that time, enjoy what you’re given, you’ll have the time to do the unimportant things later. 

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️


You’ve had a tough year…your baby has gone through, or is going through all the fun things. Teething, growth spurts, developmental leaps and to be frank, you’ve totally had it! It’s time for a holiday, a break, time to get away and relax…

If you’re taking your children, it will be none of the above!

  1. The destination – where to go! What a tough one! I looked at every destination going, even Thailand (I hadn’t been away with a baby before, so yes you’re right, I was mad!), but we finally settled for Turkey. We’d been there before, the flight time wasn’t too bad and we knew roughly what to expect. We finally settled (and I might add, saved bloody hard) for a beautiful 5* resort right on Lara beach, Antalaya – everywhere we looked were fab reviews and it totally catered for children, whatever that meant. Click click…booked! Research is key here, you don’t want to end up in one of those tiny, smelly little appartments you accidently booked when you went away on a cheap girls holiday to the Costa brava on an ‘accommodation on arrival’ package back in the ‘good old days’! That would not be fun 10 years later with a little one in tow!
  2. When to go – there are a couple of factors here. Firstly, the weather. You don’t want to go somewhere where the heat is so unbearable you keep your child indoors and resort to wearing trousers the entire time to prevent the inevitable chafing that you’ld endure if you didn’t! Equally, you don’t want to go anywhere too cold because it’s time to get some vitamin D and put your swimwear on to strut around showing off your non exfoliated, milk bottle white, saggy bellied mummy body to all the hotties! You need somewhere just in the middle that’s good for all of you. Secondly, there’s the price. If your child is under the age of 2, then you do not need to pay for a seat on the plane, but they do have to sit on your lap (or spend the entire time trying to get off of your lap). You also don’t have to worry about taking them out of school yet so the options are yours. However, if you do have a child over the age of 2, things start to get costly! You have to take them in school holidays (kerching!) and you have to pay for a seat on the plane (double kerching as they are the same price as adults!). Your options are a little more difficult!
  3. The price…oh the price! Long gone are the cheap breaks you could just, off a whim, book up because  you could and you had the money…now you have children, you can’t, and you have no money! And if you have school age children, holidaying in the summer time is borderline day light Robery, no infact, it is day light robbery!

Once you’ve figered all this out and you’ve gotten over the trauma of just how much it’s going to set you back (Christmas is cancelled and I’m already exhausted and quite frankly bored of looking at different swimming pools in each hotel trying to compare and take a call on which one is likely to have the least amount of urine in it!), then it’s time to book your holiday

The journey. I call it a journey because being a parent that has been on holiday with a toddler, it’s never any thing other than a journey that it takes you on…

We were due to fly out from London Stansted on 6th June 2015 at 9am, trying to make things run a little smoother, we decided to book the Premier Inn the night before to ensure we made it to the airport on time (6.30am) and unscathed. I had the day off of work, hubby was arriving home from work at 1pm and we were going to head straight there for a nice pre holiday night. We’d have some early dinner when we arrived, settle the little one and order a bottle of wine to the room to get us in the holiday mood. Well that didn’t go to plan! 

The day had come, Archie was in nursery, hubby has gone to work and I had the house to myself! As tempting as it was to sit down with a cuppa, or get some shut eye, I only had until 1pm. It was time to get my housework done. I done a full clean, changed the beds and cleaned the carpets, nice clean home to come back to in 2 weeks time. I packed the car with our suitcases, all 5 of them, and set off to the nail shop for some last minute pampering. A holiday just doesn’t feel the same without leaving with a fresh coat of the good stuff at a salon! Nails were dry and finally, it was time…

Off I went to the station to pick my husband up, occasionally glimpsing at my beautiful newly painted nails wondering why something so simple can make you feel so good! The train pulls in and a smiley husband opens the car door, we kiss (an ‘I still love you’ husband and wife with a kid kiss not a touge tangling ‘I’m gonna eat you’ teenage kiss…very different!). Last stop is nursery to collect our bubs and it’s to the airport we go!…

Chatting away, the lights turned red, and we sat in traffic up the hill, not even this could change our moods, until the lights changed at least! I actually had no power under my feet, Yep, absolutely no power at all! Fuck, fuck, fuckerdy, fuckeroo, fuck fuck! How? Why? Now? Really!!!!

Luckily, nursery wasn’t far and we managed, not sure how, to make it to their car park, just! The AA man arrived to give us the delightful news that our clutch had gone. Wonderful! After spending more money on this holiday then ive spent since my wild teenage days when I used to rack up a few hundred quid on new clothes for a night out, we now had an expense of £360 to boot! Not only did we have that expense, we had NO CAR! Our local garage kindly agreed to keep it for the 2 weeks we were away and get the job done but that really didn’t help us in our hour of need…we had already paid for airport parking which was non refundable, of course! We had a hotel room waiting for us and a flight to catch in a number of hours! 

Luckily my in laws were around and we finally made it to the hotel…*sigh!

After the usual night of non existent sleep, not only due to the saga of getting here, but the fact that we have a non sleeper with a capital ‘S’, it was time…time to face the airport and all that goes with it! 

Long story short, we had to re pack at the check in desk after being greeted by the worlds biggest jobsworth who quibbled over us being 3lb over, dispite seeing a clearly unsettled toddler in the buggy, not to mention the flared nostriled mother standing in front of her, Archies favourite teddy was left behind along with our printed itinery, accommadation slip and transfer form and after collecting our online boots order once we had gone through and discovering what seemed like a good idea at the time to save on room in the cases, turned out to be a bit of a pain in the arse when the cashier hands you 2 large boxes of items…oh shit! 

The plane itself was fine. My toddler loved it and the 4 hours I dreaded were actually not too bad…I did have lots of books, a colouring bag full of paper, pens, stickers etc, a food bag, lots of chocolate and the iPad for when all else failed…I was prepared for a full on floor slapping, foot stamping, ear drum bursting tantrum!

And then there’s the holiday itself. 

Whoever tells you p20 is ok for children (the provider tells you it’s safe from 6 months) is lying or has a child that’s ridiculously unsensitive. We ended up at a local pharmacy on day 2 after a puffy eyed toddler episode, turns out he’s allergic to the stuff we spent £80 on just 2 days ago…

The days when you used to grab a towel and pitch up on the hot sand covered in oil with an alcoholic beverage and cigarette are gone! Hot sand is a no go, sun beds and lots of shaded areas are our new best friends, no point in oiling up when you won’t be in the sun long enough for it to be worth while, your drink only ends up going hot so you give up after the fifth attempt, and I stopped smoking the day I found out I was pregnant. 

Then there’s the food that you have no idea what half of it is, the dodgey half broken rollercoster footpaths that make you wonder why you bought a buggy in the first place, the constant change of normal nappies to swim nappies, the let’s apply cream to a toddler that is point blank refusing to stay still event, the lack of routine resulting in lots more fun for the little one but lots more nightly wake ups for us, the funny beds that will never (5* or not) live up to your own bed, the constant battle with making sure they take enough fluids throughout the day, the fear for your lives if you attempt to get a taxi or use public transport due to absolute head cases making rules that there are no rules when it comes to driving and then the last few days thinking about the bullshit packing your going to have to do in a few days, locating your passports that you put somewhere safe (but they are so safe you’ve forgotten where), wondering if you’ll get a jobsworth check in attendant this side with a complete language barrier to add to the mix and how you can’t be lucky enough to have a toddler that behaves on both the out and return flight…

A holiday? A break? A relaxing time away? Erm…No…

…but I must say it was the best holiday I’ve ever been on. My husband and I got to be kids again, we got to watch our little boy enjoy the water and have fun, got to join in the fun, we saw him make new friends no matter what language they spoke, we made family memories that will last forever and best of all, the 3 of us got to be together for a whole 2 weeks in the sun soaking up some much needed   vitimin D, practicing our arguments via whisperer and just mouthing the occasional swear word to eachother. 

Things change when you have children, your holidays won’t be as they used to, but your heart is fuller than ever, your life becomes much more fun and you make memories more fairytale like than any book you’ve ever read or dream you’ve ever dreamt!

Top tips: Try out your sun cream before you leave, get recommendations on destinations from those with children, don’t bother taking anymore than one pair of heels (if that), have a plan B to get to and from the airport just incase things don’t go to plan and take fun things and treats for the plane…chocolate buttons and crisps come in handy when the tantrum gets out of hand and they look like they’re about to explode! 

Enjoy watching and joining in on the fun whilst they are small…there will come a time when they no longer what to holiday with you so make some memories to look back on when that time comes.

Enjoy your holiday and good luck! 💛

Love Yawning Mummy ❤️