Flying with two under two...
My husband put it perfectly when he looked at me mid-flight and said: “This is fucking carnage. Absolute fucking carnage.”
To be fair, they were so so good but the reality was we were travelling with a newborn and an almost two-year-old, four plane journeys altogether - so it was never going to be beers for breakfast.
I was standing in the queue at Boots at 5am in Newcastle airport and some lasses were in a full face of make-up, hair rollers in their hair, while I was covered in baby sick and looked like Worzel Gummidge. That moment was the start of everything travel wise (planes and cars we left ni stone unturned) going slightly Pete Tong.
Just going through 50 loads of washing so haven't had time to do a blog post yet, it will come! In the end though all that matters is my brother and his wife had the most amazing wedding. And it's all an adventure right? Just won't be going abroad for a few years...
Royal Marine Wife. Mum to Rafe.