You know that bit in Sex and the City 2 where Miranda and Charlotte have that huge heart to heart about how hard motherhood is-the scene where every mother watching, cried? Yeah that one, well that’s pretty much how I felt before I left for my birthday weekend in London-exhausted, in need of a decadent trip to Abu Dhabi (I got Notting Hill)-not too shabby, in need of quality time with the hubby and most of all SLEEP.
Ah that beautiful thing most people get to do at night, uninterrupted, in their own bed (not squashed at the end with a baby in the middle). We’d both not slept for approximately 10 months so more than anything the hubby and I just wanted to sleep through the night. Forget about everyone asking when would the baby sleep through? When WOULD WE? In London of course!
… So we left bambino with the doting grandparents and legged it. Wasn’t easy to say goodbye but I figured I needed to be strong, especially as I might have to work away for short spurts of time in the future and we had some celebrating to do. Off we went on the motorway listening to all of baby O’s fave artists (Jay Z, Alicia Keys, Alexandra Burke)-O is one cool kid- and three hours later, we were getting ready in our hotel room (hubby forgot to put my wash bag in the case so after a minor breakdown which involved some crying, a slammed door and a bit more crying, I sprayed on his lynx deodorant and begrudgingly used his toothbrush).
Luckily I’d packed my make up and I did make it out in a slinky LBD and the highest heels I think I’ve worn. Ever. Well you didn’t expect me to go out in my Uggs now did you? No baby means sky scraper heels.
The night thanks to my great friends who totally spoiled me consisted of delicious dinner at the famous Bumpkin restaurant, pink champagne, presents-(I did think I was in Sex and the City for a minute), followed by wine, cocktails…some funny Greek stories…mohitos…the rest is a drunken blur apart from the kebabs, tasty Lebanese kebabs at the end of the night. A perfect end to a perfect night. Everyone (well every Greek girl) needs a good kebab at the end of the night. And not those elephant thigh things some people refer to as ‘kebabs’ either- real grilled kebabs brushed with olive oil.
Well we were in Notting Hill after all. All good. I wasn’t missing O, well I was but it was totally bearable.
The following day hubby and I were like tourists in London (forget we lived there for 11 years until about 4 months ago), we went on the London Eye by night, (I was determined to despite hating heights) and loved it, we ate Italian on the Southbank, laughed till it hurt and had a truly romantic time-all in the knowledge O was safe with my folks and we’d be seeing him in a day’s time.
I gave a screening of my film work at a university I was guest lecturing at the following day and then we were all set to leave back to the North. I literally couldn’t wait to see the little monkey. I’d slept, finally, had soo much fun and was ready to get back into Mummy mode again.
…Then the snow came in Yorkshire, and it came and it came. We were diverted to Bristol and had to stay there for 2 days which doesn’t sound a long time but it was now 5 days since I’d seen my little man, it was my first time away from him and it was starting to really hurt. The worst thing was not knowing when we’d get back-we would get up each morning to read weather reports advising people not to travel.
Eventually we got a train back last night. I nearly kissed the conductor when we were told we could board. Arriving home I thought I was in Narnia and Baby O unbelievably was awake despite it being 11pm (my Mama said it was like he knew we were coming back). Whiles we’d been away, O had learnt to kiss (well kind of, he puckers up and pushes his head near you when he hears the Greek word for kiss and then you kiss him). Getting my first kiss with my favourite man was unforgettable. The best kiss I ever had. Fact.
So what’s the moral 0f the story? All Mamas need to get away from time to time, to have fun, remember who they once were and have quality time with their other half. Just maybe, maybe breaks without baby should be scheduled for the summer when there’s no (OK little, we live in England after all) chance of a snow delay when it’s time to get back to being a Mama…oh and never rely on your partner to pack your wash bag!
Photograph ©Vicki Psarias-Broadbent.