It is said the most important car journey of your life will be the one where you take your baby home from the hospital. I remember it like it was yesterday; both of my baby’s hospital homecomings were done in a Renault Laguna, with me sat gingerly in the front passenger seat with a towel protecting my delicate c-section scar (those speed-bumps!), our precious bundle in the back all cosseted in a MaxiCosi car seat.
This year, on our holiday to Greece, I lost Elfie.
It’s the first time this has ever happened. I’m one of those borderline helicopter parents: I hover over my kids, know where they are at every single moment. I always tell them I have eyes in the back of my head and it’s kind of true, I have this innate and instinctive gift to automatically scan a room every three seconds to check their wellbeing and whereabouts.
As the clocks have now gone back – ugh ugh there aren’t enough words to…