It's my life, but not as I knew it!

For Christmas this year all five of us are going to Granny and Gramps’ house in Essex. My brother, his fiancée and their puppy are also going to be with us; it’ll be a full and cosy Christmas this year!

In order to get two adults, two toddlers and a pussy cat there, not even mentioning the whole host of gifts, toys, clothes and other accoutrements that we’ll need when we’re there, we rented a car (living in Central London means we have no need/space to keep a car).

How much stuff is too much stuff, or too little for that matter, for a week? For the little ones I have currently narrowed it down to pretty much their entire wardrobe (help may be required to reduce that down to a medium suitcase full). I am notoriously bad at packing as I do want to take everything. I panic that I may need something that I have left behind. Rob, on the other hand, has decided on a capsule wardrobe that even Gok Wan would be proud of. Maybe I should get Rob to pack for everyone?! We are definitely going to be leaving some presents here to open before we go or when we get back as we don’t have room to drive them all there and back, we have made sure that everyone will still have enough to open on Christmas Day though!

I reserved the car a while ago being organised and taking advantage of knowing I was definitely off work this year. As the days have been crossed off the calendar and our car rental has got closer I am getting nervous about it. May sound silly, stupid even, for someone who has held a licence for over 10 years, but since moving to London I have driven less and less and I have only driven with Biscuit and Cracker a mere handful of times. Add that to the fact that I will be driving on London roads on Christmas Eve and I am more than a little scared!

I think the age-old adage of going nice and carefully combined with my Dad’s advice of keeping an eye out for potential idiots on the road will see me through the drive. Strange isn’t it, I wouldn’t normally be worried about driving but having the twins in the car with me makes it much more nerve-wracking? Plus that is just having them in the car behaving nicely and sleeping soundly, how much more are my nerves going to be frayed if they are screaming or attempting to escape from their car seats….?

If you are on the roads between London and Billericay tomorrow and see a fully loaded Ford Focus “or similar” (whatever that may mean) with a vaguely harassed lady driving it then please be kind and don’t honk at me!

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