I have just been over in the Uk for 5 days for my grandmothers 80th Birthday.
I had to travel alone with DJ there and back as my man had to work. How inconvenient of him! ;-)
Getting there was fine. As long as I have a bottle of milk at the ready for take off and landing, and my papoose ready, I am all good. Arrived in to Gatwick airport greeted by my sister Sophie. We stayed a night in London and shopped up a storm on the famous Kings road.
Next day headed to my grandmothers in the country. She was expecting about 40 of her closest friends and family, all of whom were dying to see DJ. The day of the party DJ was so cranky. Teething like mad, 6 month grumps, and decided this was the day to start separation anxiety. Which of course did not go down well with my grandmother, of course she is from the era of "Children should be seen and not heard". My poor baby got passed around and around to all these strange people. It was like he was part of the circus. The other thing that really got under my skin, and had to try my hardest not to get angry, was the amount of people sticking their fingers in their alcoholic drinks and sticking there grubby fingers in my babies mouth saying " Don't be so precious of your baby, all our mothers did this to us, alcohol is good for babies who are teething" I wanted to scream. SMiling through gritted teeth I made my exit with baby in tow. Now, I know I don't want to be too precious with him, and or course everyone wants to hold a lovely baby, however when that baby turns cranky and tired, no one wants him and shoves him back in my direction. I of course am them up for hours after everyone goes home, trying to soothe my little man to sleep, and deal with his dodgy tummy.
Anyway the party was a success as far as my grandmother was concerned. Mission accomplished.
Monday morning bright and early, 5am to be exact I head for the airport. I arrive at the airport only to realize I am at the bloody wrong airport. My airport was at least 2 hours in the other direction. So off we sped to the other airport. Of course I missed my flight, had to plead to get on the next available flight. Of course that was full. So I had to wait for a few hours in the airport till my flight. DJ decides to get sick all over me and himself as we are going through customs. Now I am usually super prepared for all events after being a mum for 6 months, and being caught in the most awkward of situations, But somewhere in the mix up of airports, early morning rise, I forgot to A) pack an extra baby grow for DJ and B) forgot to pack an extra top for me. You would think airports would be equipped for such eventualities but no.I wondered around the airport for 30 mins trying to find something for DJ. Gatwick airport does not sell any baby clothes. NOTHING NADA ZIP! despite having over 50 shops in there. So poor DJ had to make do with his vest and his blankie wrapped around him. Finally 4 hours later we get on our flight home. I was meant to arrive at 8am in the morning but I arrived at 5pm instead. I was so pleased to make it home. DJ is still really unsettled, we are trying to get back in to our routine, hopefully by the weekend we will be back on track!