So, we’re going on holiday tomorrow to Somerset, and I’ve promised myself we won’t have a stressful time leaving the house in the morning. Absolutely not. No no no. Aaaaaand yet I haven’t packed yet. Not a single thing.

And now I’m sat writing to you fine fellows and watching back to back episodes of the Good Wife…

The good news is we don’t need to take a cot or a highchair, but one of the crazy things about having kids is the insane amount of stuff you have to schlep around! There was a day when going on holiday meant idly leafing through your wardrobe, choosing between several pairs of shoes, and throwing in an approximate number of pants into the single, medium-sized suitcase, maybe even on the day of departure itself.

Now I have to write a list a week before we go. Otherwise we’d leave the house without nappies, or something equally essential. And even though I have the list, and a very thorough husband who helps me check we’ve got everything and even packs the car himself (we don’t have a driveway so it’s not as easy as it sounds), I still end up packing haphazardly and as fast as I can, seeing if I can put clothes in faster than my kids take them out. We still leave at least an hour late, tempers frayed, talking to each other in snappy, one-word sentences, accompanied by 2 crazy-hyper, over-tired (in Teddy’s case – he still needs a sleep in the morning) kids, and the last thing they want to do is walk to the car sensibly, in a straight line, without stopping to look at every flower, airplane and bit of dog-poo.

Now, how to make leaving the house a happy experience tomorrow morning??? Better go get packing so we can enjoy that looooong walk to the car. Now where did I put that list…