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Getting Away For A Weekend

 

When we go away as a couple now – just the two of us – there’s a whole host of reasons to get excited. A car journey with conversation and music rather than whining, clothes that don’t have to provide easy boob access for feeding (Dresses!!), a lie in, bathtime without plastic cups, wine, prosecco and Pimms, lots of other grown ups… going away as a family is awesome too but there is something so very wonderful about remembering who you were before you had kids.

 

 

This weekend we travelled with my little brother and his fiancé Erin to a mutual friend’s wedding in Suffolk. I’d spent a long time preparing for the weekend, expressing what felt like a lifetime’s supply of breast milk for Hux and whispering to him how much we loved him, that we weren’t abandoning him and that we’d be back before he knew it. I was pretty heartbroken to leave him though I knew a night away would do us good and he’d be in very safe hands with his Grannie and Grandpa. I didn’t have the same worries for Elfie who had spent the previous two days saying “Gaga? Sleep? More?” every five minutes. I.e. Please can I go for my sleepover at my Grannie’s house now please?

 

 

It’s safe to say we had a blast. So much so that I chucked my DSLR in the boot of the car as soon as the wedding ceremony was over so we could get on with the serious business of enjoying ourselves.

The wedding was gorgeous, in the barn of an old Manor’s estate in deepest darkest Suffolk. The new Mr and Mrs were radiant, there was a fantastic BBQ and we were able to catch up with old friends.

 

 

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I enjoyed myself so much that I got sick of the taste of prosecco, necked jaegerbombs like squash and wrote something potentially inappropriate in the guestbook about how I was sneaking off every couple of hours to express  my milk in the car. I still woke at 8am the next day, bright and early all ready for Mummy duty. Lie in, what lie in?! I had itchy feet to get back to my babies but as we were travelling as a foursome I tried to chill out, take a dip in the (claw-footed and free-standing) bath and relax a little.

 

 

I always forget the most wonderful thing about going away for the weekend, and that is getting home to my babies. It’s worth leaving them for a night to feel the absolute joy I get on being able to hug them again. It makes me appreciate them on a whole other level and then vow to never ever leave their sweet faces ever again,  a resolution which lasts until the next 5am wakeup call which is when I start dreaming of country house hotels once more.

 

They were total angels and seemed to have a blast. Elfie today: “Gaga? Papa? Sleep? More?”. Sign me up for another two days of jaegerbombs…

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