The last three Saturdays we have gone to the grand final, and two birthdays. Each time, the trip there and back is just such a pain in the arse. Despite this, we always feel really glad that we’ve escaped the trailer for a little while – it’s surprisingly nice to do some socialising. Most of our babied-up friends get out and about a lot more than we seem to – but most of them live a lot nearer to their planned destinations. M and I have spent fair chunks of our lives this year sitting in the back seat with Small Z, singing a wide variety of tunes in an effort to stop her losing the plot.
I always feel bad for Small Z – having to stuff her in the car for an hour, just to go and see some friends. For a little person who is only awake in two or three hour increments, an hour is a fair chunk of time. If she doesn’t sleep in the car, then she hasn’t got lots of time up her sleeve by the time we get somewhere. Frankly, I’m amazed she puts up with it at all. If I was a commando crawling explorer with no command of English, I would protest extensively about being strapped into a seat for no apparent reason. A long time ago, my wise friend Jen said to me, “Don’t ever have a baby while you’re living somewhere that you can’t put them in the pram and walk somewhere from the front gate.” And what did we do? Ignored this. She ignored her own self!!
Maybe if I was getting more sleep it would be less of an issue. But anyway – having one or two outings a week is pretty much the limit. I do find that besides the one hour of interminable driving there and the other driving back, it is great to kick back with people now that the weather is warming up. The most recent Saturday was L’s birthday picnic, and there were three babies walking, crawling and sitting on the picnic rugs trying to steal each others toys and eat as much grass and tan bark as they could (well – the grass bit was mainly Small Z).