If you see me and I look like I’m going to burst into tears, it’s probably because just had the privilege of spending £700ish on getting my car through its sodding MOT.
Namely, the brakes were fucked and the tyres needed replacing.
It shouldn’t really be a surprise, if I’m honest. Over the past few weeks I’ve spent a totally ridiculous amount of time (at least 30 hours) in the car. This included a hen do in Oxford, a holiday in Wales and then the Isle of Wight, Manchester for Blog On and finally a trip to Peppa Pig World. No wonder I haven’t had time to get anything useful done.
Around half of those (way too many) miles were with children, and the other half without (WOOHOO PARTY TIME etc etc).
There is quite a difference between car journeys with children, and travelling childfree.
Here are some of them.
Car has one bag or suitcase in the back. Two, perhaps, if you’re lift sharing. There is so much room that if you end up bringing back epic goody bags or raffle winnings from your conference, let’s say, then you can sling them on the back seat. No biggie.
Cannot see anything useful in rear view mirror because of all the crap you’ve had to pack (and you will still have forgotten something vital).
Take is eaaaasy like Sunday morning, except probably stop a lot anyway because you’re a mum now and your pelvic floor is nothing to write home about and you did have two cups of tea before you left.
Pre-check route and available service stations. Plan all stops to ensure that no longer than one and a half hours elapses between so as not to end up with soggy car seats, because that’s going to be a shitter in the outer reaches of Wales with no available washing facilities.
Sing along to the 90s and 00s rock hits on Absolute Radio because you realise that you know nothing on Radio 1 anymore.
Soundtrack of the journey is a Disney film or whines of ‘Are we there yet?’, ‘When will we be there?’ and ‘I need a wee wee!’. Don’t sing. You’ll be told under no uncertain terms to stop.
If you’re hungry, stop and get something to eat. Maybe find a Tripadvisor-recommended pub en route and make a thing of it. No drama.
Take a bag full of snacks (or seven) in preparation to be asked every 4 minutes what else there is to eat, even if you’ve eaten a full three course meal before setting off. Be prepared to curse every service station with a McDonalds sign. Be prepared to purchase a Happy Meal.
Car is fairly devoid of clutter, aside from the odd chocolate bar wrapper (and you didn’t even have to share!).
Car looks like a bomb has been detonated inside it. A bomb full of crumbs and Happy Meal toys. And sand – where has that even come from?
Swear loudly at other drivers. Wankers.
Try to avoid exploding in a ball of rage at other drivers’ incompetence and then take it all out on your family when you arrive at your destination.
Read my tips for car journey survival here!
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