I have returned from a lovely weekend away. I decided some time ago that I would whisk the kids up to Scotland for a break whilst I’ve got time off from work, so we booked bargain fares on the train, and went on Thursday.
I took my little notebook/diary type thing, thinking that a 2 hour train journey would allow me plenty of time to scribble away and take notes, and instead, I ended up with earache from two 4 year olds who couldn’t stop showing me their drawings of trains, sheep and people. It was a good journey though, and we all had plenty of food to munch on that we’d made and packed earlier in the day.
Once we got to Carlisle, we had a wait of around 15 minutes for my aunty to come and collect us, and as we drove over the border, we encouraged the kids to cheer and wave their arms about. They sat there stony-faced and silent, and would not even smile. (They were being incredibly shy!)
We chilled out at her house, and waited for Stevie to come home from school. She walked in all grown up and tall, and totally changed from the last time I saw her, all contributing to my feeling old. From then on, I never saw my kids! They followed poor Stevie and her friend Shannon all over the place, and I started to feel as though I’d lost some limbs! I have to admit however, that I did enjoy it, it felt like a bit of a break, and I relaxed knowing that they were safe in Stevie’s hands.
We had a chinese, we had drinks, we had visits to shops where I found some plain cheap plimsols I’d wanted for ages, and I even managed to squeeze a night out in, where I discovered the most gorgeous garlic mayonnaise, which lingered the next day regrettably. All in all, we had a great time, and I can’t wait to go back again, or for them to come and visit us in Manchester.
Unfortunately, the end of a relaxing break tends to lead to stress, and this was no truer than the events of yesterday and today.
We got to Carlisle to discover there were no trains running whatsoever, due to high winds causing a freight train to blow all over the tracks on our route. So, we were faced with a coach journey to Preston. As the coach filled up, the driver came out to tell me that there were 2 seats left, but they were separate. Now, anyone who knows my children would know that there is no way in the world they would sit away from me, next to a stranger on a huge bus that they’ve never been on before, and I explained this to him, using “they’ll cry their eyes out” as the clincher. Thankfully, he asked some kind man if he would move, and the 3 of us squeezed into two seats together. As we drove past countless grazing sheep and the beauty of the Lake District, Evie had a little snooze on my knee, as Marley sprawled out in the seat she had all to herself. We ate chocolates and drank Ribena, and finally we reached Preston, where we had to get a train.
When this train pulled into Manchester Victoria, we went to the tram stop for our tram home. We waited, and we waited, and we waited, for what felt like hours, and no Altrincham trams came by. Eventually, we decided to just get on a Piccadilly one (ticketless!), and change there to get home (with ticket!).
We walked home from the tram stop, laden down with suitcases and bags galore, looking like a trio of pack-horses trudging through the town, and poor Marley gave in and fell over sending her little tartan suitcase and a Tweenies bag flying over the concrete.
Finally, we got home, and bursting for wees and so hungry, we discovered my Mothers Day presents. 2 books I’d wanted for a while, which is better than chocolates when you’re trying to lose weight!
Alex came home soon after us, with a pizza in hand, and smiles and cuddles for the kids. Oh, how they had missed him, and this was so evident when they saw his car pull up and ran to the door shouting “WOO-HOOOOO!”.
Today has provided me with further stress. I’ve found out I can’t have the time off I wanted incase we manage to get tickets for Glastonbury, or manage to find work at Glastonbury, and my work have such ridiculous rules regarding it, that I feel like telling them to shove the job up their bums. It’s complicated to explain, but they have holiday “ceilings” which means only so many people within the store from certain departments can have time off at the same time, but our department are grouped together regardless of whether you work days or nights, and also with the office, who have nothing to do with our staffing. It’s not like we cover their work or they cover ours! So I am not happy, and I’ve told my boss this. I don’t know if this will help, I think the only thing that will help will be to leave. Yes, that would help my sanity, but may not help my purse.
Shinymacage 