I’d done a weekend by myself before with the two children.

But this was different.

This was on location in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by fields and hills.

Oh and Harry really wasn’t feeling well.

This oughta be interesting.

It probably should be said I wasn’t all on my own. In fact I had backup from a whole host of good friends from church including sharing a cabin with Sophie’s godmother and family.


My first decision was to delay turning up by fifteen hours – not so much a weekend away as just over a day.

But with Harry utterly distressed and frantic on Friday night, it really didn’t seem fair to take him two and a half hours away from his bed.

This all meant we rocked up about midday on Saturday, needing to grab a quick lunch, sort out a bag, chill out an angry baby and then go on a family-friendly walk.

To cap it all, one of the two things I’d left behind was the baby formula measuring scoop – how did I even do that – so I was desperately trying to Google equivalent measures.

Only I was in the middle of nowhere remember and the Wifi wasn’t working.

Emergency shopping trip required.

Once at the walk, Harry was settled but Sophie was quite clingy and wanted me to hold her hand at all times. She then needed the toilet (a lot) so I had Harry in the sling and kept crouching down to hold her portable potty still and tell her stories.

I must have looked quite a sight.

In fairness, she settled once the deed was done and we enjoyed an ice cream together.

We then drove round in circles for a bit looking for a shop where we could buy a baby formula scoop – a job I never thought I’d find myself doing.

Back at camp we dodged stampeding sheep – honestly – and participated briefly in a rounders game. That seemed to go OK as did  Harry’s downing of a pouch for dinner.

However with mine and Sophie’s tummies rumbling and the most epic curry being served, Harry chose that moment to finally get angry and boy did he scream.

Dinner cancelled (or, thanks to the amazing help of friends, just postponed briefly).

I returned to base some distance away to sort him out while Sophie continued to tear round with her friends. Indeed I simply watched Wimbledon all evening so I could look after Harry.

For the first time in my life, I had that very strange feeling of watching the clock wondering who my daughter was out with and what time she was coming home.

She’s three for goodness sake.

She eventually stumbled in at 9.45pm and clearly was desperate to go to bed, albeit taking time to rifle through my friend’s purse which had been left in her bedroom. What a pilferer.

The following day, she was absolutely exhausted and I spent much of it trying to keep her on an even keel. Missed the church service as Harry was asleep then Sophie wanted me to play Duck Duck Goose. Three adults and about fifteen children ended up playing. Epic.

Harry got angry once again at mealtime and I wolfed down the roast dinner before rushing off with the two children, missing the church family photograph but needing to get home.

Of course I got stuck in two traffic jams during the three hour journey back but my tired children coped marvellously and we made it back to our space by 5 o’clock.


I’d been outnumbered but I’d survived – and only three things lost along the way. Thanks to everyone for their help. Never would have made it through without you!