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Spending Easter Monday on the M5…

1

How not to spend Easter Monday on the M5; a 6 hour car journey with a baby.

Start off hopeful that they will sleep because they have had succhhhh a tiring weekend.

Enjoy 18 minutes of sitting in the front chatting to your husband as if it was like one of your pre baby road trips.

Put up with 11 minutes of crying, start to ignore it because the baby will surely drop back off soon.

Eat all the cookies before you are even on the motorway.

Acknowledge the baby is crying properly and then huff about a bit.

Clamber into the back while

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traveling at 70mph. Dangle boob in baby’s face to calm the crying. Once your letdown is at its most powerful, the baby will pull off and laugh, covering you, him and the carseat in milk.

Realise you can smell poo. Pretend you can’t for 5 minutes. Give in and check the nappy, getting poo on your hands.

Great time for your husband to ask for a detailed description of the football match updates on BBC sport. Dangle boob in baby’s face while you are pressed against the carseat trying to navigate BBC sport with little to no phone signal.

Give in

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and change the nappy while stopped in traffic. Conveniently don’t notice the shit escaped up the back of the nappy until its too late. Frantically wipe carseat while baby wriggles about.

Dangle boob in crying baby’s face.

Pretend you dont feel sick from cookies/clambering about/checking the football scores/the smell of shitty nappy.

Leak milk over only clean top.

Attempt to change baby’s shitty clothes while stopped in traffic. Realise spare clothes in baby’s bag are far too big for him. End up with a naked unbuckled baby laughing at you

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in standstill traffic on the m5. Wrestle him into new nappy and baggy clothes while other cars look on, horrified. Check he is clipped back in several times.

Re-evaluate your life choices.

Decide how to slowly kill your husband as he asks for more football updates.

Contemplate throwing up into dirty nappy while checking how many corners some random team have had by half time.

Rifle through baby bag to look for calpol. Use strength of a thousand men to open baby proof lid. Fill syringe with sticky pink liquid. Spill sticky pink liquid down

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clean jeans. Refill syringe and put in baby’s mouth. Wipe up pink dribble with own cardigan as why bother keeping yourself clean anymore.

Dangle boob in babys face and come away with sticky bra. Silently unbuckle seatbelt as baby appears to have fallen asleep. Clamber into the front. Eye up more cookies. Give husband running football commentary. Hear baby cry from the back. Whip out boob, lose all dignity, mourn the death of hopes and dreams, clamber into back and repeat 6 times until home.

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- 17 Apr 17

How not to spend Easter Monday on the M5; a 6 hour car journey with a baby.

Start off hopeful that they will sleep because they have had succhhhh a tiring weekend.

Enjoy 18 minutes of sitting in the front chatting to your husband as if it was like one of your pre baby road trips.

Put up with 11 minutes of crying, start to ignore it because the baby will surely drop back off soon.

Eat all the cookies before you are even on the motorway.

Acknowledge the baby is crying properly and then huff about a bit.

Clamber into the back while traveling at 70mph. Dangle boob in baby’s face to calm the crying. Once your letdown is at its most powerful, the baby will pull off and laugh, covering you, him and the carseat in milk.

Realise you can smell poo. Pretend you can’t for 5 minutes. Give in and check the nappy, getting poo on your hands.

Great time for your husband to ask for a detailed description of the football match updates on BBC sport. Dangle boob in baby’s face while you are pressed against the carseat trying to navigate BBC sport with little to no phone signal.

Give in and change the nappy while stopped in traffic. Conveniently don’t notice the shit escaped up the back of the nappy until its too late. Frantically wipe carseat while baby wriggles about.

Dangle boob in crying baby’s face.

Pretend you dont feel sick from cookies/clambering about/checking the football scores/the smell of shitty nappy.

Leak milk over only clean top.

Attempt to change baby’s shitty clothes while stopped in traffic. Realise spare clothes in baby’s bag are far too big for him. End up with a naked unbuckled baby laughing at you in standstill traffic on the m5. Wrestle him into new nappy and baggy clothes while other cars look on, horrified. Check he is clipped back in several times.

Re-evaluate your life choices.

Decide how to slowly kill your husband as he asks for more football updates.

Contemplate throwing up into dirty nappy while checking how many corners some random team have had by half time.

Rifle through baby bag to look for calpol. Use strength of a thousand men to open baby proof lid. Fill syringe with sticky pink liquid. Spill sticky pink liquid down clean jeans. Refill syringe and put in baby’s mouth. Wipe up pink dribble with own cardigan as why bother keeping yourself clean anymore.

Dangle boob in babys face and come away with sticky bra. Silently unbuckle seatbelt as baby appears to have fallen asleep. Clamber into the front. Eye up more cookies. Give husband running football commentary. Hear baby cry from the back. Whip out boob, lose all dignity, mourn the death of hopes and dreams, clamber into back and repeat 6 times until home.

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