When mum attempts to be an organised traveller

When we were leaving the house to go on holiday on Thursday I felt like a very annoying taxi customer. I thought we were ready on time. I had even packed the kids rucksacks the evening before. The problem was that everything went wrong in the moment we were about to leave.

When we should have been in the taxi I had one on the potty and one on the loo. There was a pile of snacks the kids had discovered and insisted on bringing; a Playmobil bus that Big Boy was determined needed to come on holiday in addition to everything else I had packed for him–and when the bags were really filled to the rim Big Girl decided she simply couldn’t leave the house without a new Barbie with a dog that could poo.

The result was that I turned up at the airport with nine pieces of luggage and two kids. All nine were meant to be our carry on luggage. I just couldnt combine anything because our bags were too small and to make it just that bit more challenging I added a full bag of milk for Big Boy and a bag of magazines when we got to tax free.

We had 11 pieces of luggage and Daddy T, who met us before boarding, suggested he didn’t want to travel with the three of us again.

It looked like a mess.

It seemed like we had never left the house before and Daddy T joked I needed to attend a travel training course.

It turns out that in five years I’ve gone from someone who was always ready to jump on a plane and kept a pre packed washbag with headphones, earplugs, mini toiletries, hand wipes and currency card in the bedside table to someone who looks completely out of touch with life beyond Parsons Green.

Tags: Being a mum, Holiday, Packing, Travel