So in theory going on a Centre Parcs holiday should be a little less stressful than trying to negotiate planes, airports, transfers, lost luggage scenarios but today’s antics have completely disproved that theory.
Now I am an organised person, in fact you could say I border on being a little bit anally retentive when it comes to being organised for going away.
I had my online shopping ordered and scheduled for delivery for Saturday evening, giving me chance to get last minute bits on Sunday if required. Meals had been planned, laundry washed and ironed, outfits coordinated and planned for each day including spare outfits in case of spills/poonamis. I had a case for clothes, bag for toiletries, box of toys and books, swim bag was packed. I had it covered.
The only thing that needed to be done this morning was put the chilled food and toiletries in the car, wipe the sides down and mop the floor – outfits were laid out last night so once breakfast had been smeared all over the boys they just had to be wiped down and changed, plonked in the car and off we go.
Did that happen?
Did it bollocks!!!!
Four hours behind schedule, unpacking one car and repacking into another we are finally on our way. I’ve even succumbed to peer pressure from dear hubby and I’m shoving a Big Mac into my face.
So what has caused such a delay to a well organised plan….
Children going wild??? nope
Bad night with the boys??? nope
Forgetting something vitally important??? Erm of course not!!
No it was our trusty family car that had decided the day before out of nowhere to suddenly not start. Ah just needs a jump start, call out breakdown….jump starts car, hubby goes off for half and hour or more to charge the battery. I go to do a couple of errands later on. …car still won’t start, call breakdown out again!!
This time it’s 8pm on a Sunday night, I’ve spent all day running around like a mad woman trying to get everything together so we have a quick smooth start to our journey the next day and now the car still won’t start.
Mechanic comes out, he’s slightly baffled, jump starts car, informs hubby to leave the engine running for thirty minutes. His advice, set alarm for 6.30am if it doesn’t start call breakdown again and hopefully the next mechanic can change the battery for a new one.
Did the car start this morning???
Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be prattling on about it now. So cue a stressed hubby who’s now ringing car garages, trying to think of a plan B as all our stuff will NOT fit in my little Citroën C3, not with two car seats and two adults. “We will have to hire a car” he suggests, quick Google and that plan is out of the window, no cars available until Wednesday – shit!!
“call your sister and see if she can divert here” I had already preempted my sister that I may call on her but seeing as it would be a 4 hour diversion, then another two hours driving to centre parcs, I wanted to avoid that if I could…but she was on standby.
Then a thought hit me, my moment to shine came. “What about the roof box in the garden??” I suggested. “Let’s see if we can get that to fit”
So off I trudged, baby in one arm, roof box bar in the other and off I went, yep that’s right this super mum pulled out the leaf covered, spider and slug infested roof box, wiped it down and fitted it to the car, whilst simultaneously juggling a small child who was adamant he was not leaving mummy’s side
(said nice clean outfit had now been ruined both his and mine). But who cares I found a solution to our shitty problem, now all we needed to do was get the “family” car into the garage and dogs to the kennels and we were finally onto a winner. Fortunately this supermum called upon the powers of another and she too donned her cape and came to rescue as she escorted dear hubby around whilst I packed eveything into my little car, tidied the house AGAIN. Finally there was light at the end of the tunnel.
So here we are four hours behind schedule in my tiny little C3 bombing down the A50 with roof box packed, the littlest one sleeping in the back and a Maccies on my knee.
Think I deserve my glass of bubbles tonight, in the meantime the boys couldn’t care less what’s gone on this morning, the eldest has even donned his “cool hat” and is munching on his fries – don’t judge this is his first McDonald’s!
Now where can I hang my cape? This supermum is now on holiday!!