Keeping it real…

Ok, so amongst the Instagram pics of Audrey grinning up from our everyone-seems-to-have Ikea rug, what else is going on…?

Let me tell you – puke. Poop. Snot. Eye goo. Worry. Tears. Exhaustion. 

Audrey has been ill this week and I’m currently in the thick of it (well no, that was probably more 2am when she woke about 40 mins after I’d just given her cuddles and Calpol and it took me an hour to rock her to sleep…), but right now I am filled with cold, breathing through my mouth, with Audrey slumped on me asleep, covered in crusty snot, with laboured breathing and a dry pouty little mouth.  I am tired and worried and I would like nothing more than to have a good cry. But instead, I’ll keep cuddling and I’ll keep shushing and saying “Mummy’s here, it’s ok”.

You might have thought the low point of the week was Audrey projectile-vomiting porridge and blueberries all over us both and that trusty rug, but no, today is definitely lower… Because today Audrey has slept all day. At the tiny points where she’s been awake (nappy change, sip of water, doctor prodding), she’s been lethargic and whiny and her eyes are like slits. I feel so utterly helpless and just want to rewind to yesterday when she perked up and wouldn’t stop waving to the receptive young couple behind me in the cafe. This is horrible. Seriously, how do mothers do this? It’s so horrible having an ill child. I adore the extra cuddles and I love the accessibility of her tasty forehead… But I’d do anything to see my bright little monkey again. The claps, the high fives, the constant request for food (signing “more”), come back little Audrey boo, I miss you!

I also (stupidly), feel like I jinxed things. I kept telling people how losing my job wasn’t so bad – being at home with Audrey is fun. And then this happens and I feel like I’m dealing with a newborn again – not knowing what to do for the best, second guessing her needs and hoping a cuddle solves all. Meanwhile, it’s one of the sunniest weeks we’ve had and I’m glued to the sofa.

Funny how each tiny phase feels like an age… I know that by next week I’ll have those smiles back, but for now, it feels like we will be ill forever and that little Audrey has lost her spark 😦



Audrey 2

When we had Audrey, we didn’t know if we were having a boy or girl and we didn’t share our baby names with people. We were looking forward to the surprise.

Strangely, my mother, who was obsessed with us promising that we wouldn’t make a name up or have something American sounding that’s really a surname (Taylor, Page, Madison…), found Audrey to be a shock name choice.

My brother overheard her telling relatives on the phone (as she rang around to confirm Audrey’s arrival); “They chose the name Audrey as they love Audrey Hepburn and Vicky loves The Rocky Horror Picture Show so much” (!). Hilarious. Yes, she meant Little Shop of Horrors and, no that wasn’t really part of the naming process.

Anyway, this was post was drafted to announce a little “Audrey 2” in my tummy, but sadly it’s sad news instead.

A few weeks ago, at 10 weeks pregnant, we had a miscarriage. As I type that, it does feel strange to be sharing something so personal online, but the fact is, it happened and we’re ok.

When I lost my job, I was about 5 or 6 weeks pregnant and I was instantly worried about how we were going to cope financially and also how on earth I was going to apply for jobs knowing I only had 6 months worth of work before going off to have a baby. But we had to get on with things and the pregnancy was good news, so we couldn’t let redundancy overshadow this.

The timing was very similar to Audrey, her due date was 17th July, this baby’s was 2nd July. So like my pregnancy with Audrey, we planned to tell family at Christmas, with a toast to the new baby on Christmas Day. Sadly, this was not to be, but we were very lucky in that this happened to our second pregnancy, so we had Audrey around to keep us smiling. She made all the difference. And at 10 weeks, we weren’t too far along. It was devastating, we had started planning for Audrey 2, but it wasn’t quite as I had imagined. Not quite like the drama in the movies… for example, we got the bus to the hospital. Seems so silly now. The early pregnancy unit is closed on weekends, so we had to sit in A&E for an hour or so. It was… unpleasant.

We still hope to grow our family and would love for Audrey to be a big sister, but we recognise how fragile human life is and how lucky we are to already have a beautiful daughter in our lives.

Sorry for this depressing post. Belated Christmas wishes to you all and have a Happy 2015!

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Blessed

When Audrey was a newborn, I read other parents’ accounts of having a child with Down Syndrome and, well, I thought in some cases they were lying. Or at least kidding themselves by piling on the positivity.

“Our child is a blessing” or “we wouldn’t change anything about our child” or “he/she is simply perfect”. I thought come on, you would change the Down Syndrome! And you know they’re not perfect!

But guess what? They were just further down the path than us and now I know what they know, I’m all over this positivity and “blessedness”!

But let me be clear, Audrey isn’t a blessing to us because she has DS, she just plain and simple is a blessing. She’s our daughter, we made her and ok, something “different” happened in the making and she got an extra chromosome, but that’s just part of Audrey.

When I look at her, I am overwhelmed by how much I love her and how perfect she is for us, for our family. I genuinely wouldn’t change her. Yes, I want to wipe out health issues, prejudices, difficulties… But if we took away the DS, she wouldn’t be the same baby and we love this baby, just the way she is. She’s perfect. And yes, I know that really there is no such thing as perfect… In fact, as I said, when I read other families call their child with DS “perfect”, I felt a twinge, an uncomfortable stab… Thinking, c’mon, how can you use the word perfect?!?

But I get it now. How can anyone? What is perfection? Does it even exist?

Audrey isn’t really perfect. She had terrible reflux and used to puke all over us. Sometimes she gives wonderful long kisses; covering us in snot. Sometimes she wakes up at 5am. She pulls my hair. She dribbles a lot. She has rough patches on her thumbs from over-sucking.

But she is amazing. She fits into our family and brings us so much happiness. We are deeply in love with her and wouldn’t change her for the world.

So there. Gushy positive Down’s Syndrome family believes they are blessed. Because they are.

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Feminism

Feminism is trendy (or should that be trending?) right now.

I’ve read so much these passed couple of weeks; from a misogynistic Viner getting a TV series commission (and getting axed) to the internet trolls that attacked the people who commented on his misogyny… the wonderful celebs wearing the “This is what a feminist looks like” tee to the evil celebs wearing the “This is what a feminist looks like” tee (because it was made by an under-paid woman in a sweatshop).

This sort of attention on feminism interests me now more than ever because of Audrey. I consider what sort of world she will grow up in and what the future holds for her as a woman.

Historically for me, feminism was a dirty word. I always pictured Germain Greer, with a burning bra on a pitchfork, talking about banning something as harmless as page 3. I certainly never thought I would consider myself a feminist. Around the age of 15 I discovered that if you stopped wearing long skirts and DMs and switched to miniskirts and knee-high boots, boys noticed you. I am ashamed to say I played dumb in Design Technology so a boy would assist me with and thought nothing of it at the time. I purchased a wonderbra and pitched myself very much on the “feminine” not “feminist” side of the fence.

For years I thought sexism was a dated concept and that hey, we are all equal these days, so why are women still banging on about it? My first real “brush” with sexism was in a job I took in the early noughties. The MD was proper old school (paper rollerdex, a secretary made all calls for him,he returned from long lunches stinking of booze, drove home… you get the picture). I was there for around a year when someone left and we were recruiting for our office manager. As the stack of applicants arrived, the pile diminished into those requiring the lowest salary, but more significantly, women only. I was soon informed that the first thing he did for any admin jobs or in fact, the job I had, was limit to women only. They also told me to look at myself and the other females working there – were we all not quite similar? Did he have a type? For the technical jobs, he did the opposite and considered men only.

One day an error (purposely guided by the MD) occurred and I heard him apologising on the phone to the client, blaming “the girls” and dismissing it as our sloppiness. There was never any funny business with this man, but over time it became clear that he regarded the woman working there as “silly girls” and certainly respected his male colleagues much more.

So I realised there were still a few sexist dinosaurs out there, but still didn’t feel the need to rise up with my sisters and declare myself a feminist…

My interest in feminism now comes from Audrey and how she will experience life as a girl. We want her to feel equal (and let’s put aside her other struggles with equality due to DS), confident and as important as any boy.

One thing Ted and I constantly despair at, is the clothing on offer for baby girls. We have no problem with pink in moderation, but we do not think she needs to be dressed in a way that constantly screams “I’m a girl!”. The main issue we have with girls’ clothing and toys (and how is this still happening in this day and age?), is the pinkification of things to appeal to girls. They make pink versions of Superman outfits, they do a pink version of the (usually so yucky brown!) Gruffalo, girls t-shirts are littered with kittens and bows and butterflies and glitter… boys get dinosaurs and monsters and bears (much cooler), most of which escape tacky embellishments.

I’m curious as to who is in charge of the importance of girlification? Has the beast been created because that’s what the majority of buying parents want? Or is there a conspiracy to keep girls girly, flood them with pink early and they’ll never want to take the decent jobs? They’ll all want to be popstars and wags?

One thing I do know, is that I want to ensure Audrey is exposed to choices on that front. Yes, I know that in a few years she will probably be choosing the ugliest, pinkest, glitter-covered princess outfit in the shop, but isn’t that more reason not to cover her in it now? Feminism should be about choices. Women now have the choices and the opportunities to be whatever they want to be…

Let’s not forget, Audrey was a pirate (on pirates and princesses day) and a bat (on Halloween):

 

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Stuff and things 5

So, you may have seen from my last post that I recently lost my job. The company I worked for had been struggling for a while, but when it finally sank it was still a shock for those involved.

Audrey had been ill for about 3 weeks, it started with a cough and cold, progressed to sickness, the cough hung on and she was off milk and/or food most of the time. Smiles were at an all-time low. We only really felt like she came back to us just over a week ago, when the smiles and claps returned and her baby-babbles reached an all-time high. She chatters all day now.

Workmen are ripping down a balcony from the back of our building and fixing the front facade, so Audrey’s nap times are fraught with banging, drilling and men shouting!

Anyway, her being ill, my job of 8 years ending abruptly (with salary owed), men on scaffolding watching us in our dressing gowns… it’s been a rough ride recently.

Last week (thank goodness), my husband had the week off. We visited my mum and brother (Nanny and Uncle Graeme) on Sunday and Monday, then I had my hair re-brownified (in preparation for interviews and money saving). Tuesday Audrey was at nursery and Ted and I went to see Nightcrawler. How odd it was to be alone for lunch and then in the cinema all afternoon!

Wednesday my mother-in-law (Bibi) came over for lunch and Thursday was another nursery day so… Ted and I went to see Interstellar.

Friday we had lunch with NCT pals. But now the spending must stop and the job hunt must get serious…

Coffees consumed: at least 10
Burgers: 4
Milkshakes: 2
Pastries/cakey treats: 4
Fudge: too much
Beers: check with Ted
Audrey smiles: too many to record

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P.S. If anyone was paying attention when I teased Audrey having a modelling job… Sadly her photo wasn’t used in the end. But, if you’ve seen the Lidl wooden toy advert on TV this week… You’ll catch a glimpse of her friends Huxley and Zakir!

Work vs work

I used to think the stay at home mum option was the easy/lazy choice… My mother didn’t work until I was around 8 years old and even then she just did some part time work, which meant she was still around for the school run.

My sister got pregnant at 19 and decided to quit work and be a stay-at-home single mother. I honestly thought she spent most of her days in bed!

Now of course I know that motherhood isn’t one long nap or even one long playtime. Babies are exhausting and they require a lot of looking after. Yes, you might get a chance to nap when they nap… But they might only nap indoors in your arms for 6 months (thanks Audrey), so you can’t nap… Or they might prefer afternoon buggy naps (again, Audrey!), so you need to pace around when you’d rather have your feet up with a cuppa.

It’s all challenging and rewarding, up and down… I salute you if you devote your time to raising your children full-time. There’s a lot of walking in parks, but it’s not a walk in the park.

Despite motherhood not being quite the meander down easy-street I imagined, I still dreaded going back to work. I thought it would be such a shock to my system and I worried I would struggle with someone else looking after Audrey. As it turns out, it was a blessed relief! Work turned out to be easier than looking after my own child!

Since drafting this post a few weeks ago, where I basically just wanted to ramble on about the beauty of work/baby balance; I have lost my job.

I did know it was likely to happen (the company was clearly in trouble), but it was still a shock – we were all out of jobs so quickly. When a company goes into administration it can bring everything to a pretty abrupt end.

And so… a job-hunting I must go. This is where I realise that having a baby complicates things on that front. Can I get a quick-fix temp job in a shop? Not really… Unless they can give me 3 days a week that guarantee I can get across town for nursery pick up by 6. And will the wage justify the child care?

I started to contemplate full-time work (since there are 100s more full-time jobs than part-time ones) and realised how much I do value my time with Audrey. It’s not about an ‘easy’ day or even about me having the control, it’s about our relationship and the fact that; time together = bonding.

Right now I’m riding high as Audrey’s number 1. She reaches for me when someone else is holding her, she moans when she thinks I’m leaving her and gazes at me with such love… What if her keyworker at nursery became that number 1?!

And so I shall continue my quest for part-time work, to keep that work/baby balance, but in the meantime I can work extra hard to maintain my place at the top of Audrey’s tree…

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The elephant in the room

So here’s a question for you, do you tell people your baby/child has Down’s Syndrome (obviously you don’t if they don’t have DS!)?

It’s certainly not my opening line when meeting new people, but I do tend to casually throw it in there just to clear the air and acknowledge the obvious.

Even though Audrey looks less and less “downsie” (our choice of phrase, one used to be cute, not offensive) to me everyday, I do know that she has the characteristics and strangers will either clock this and know, or at least wonder.

We actually do sometimes start to think it’s not obvious, but then we look at other babies with DS and she is quite clearly in their crew. It’s funny because it means we often look on other babies with extra “ahhhs” because they look like our baby.

Our first experience of a stranger actually acknowledging Audrey’s DS before we’d said anything was a barmaid (early 20s?) in a pub we were celebrating my Nan’s 95th birthday in. She just said “Down’s Syndrome babies are extra cute aren’t they?” And to be honest I felt a little surprised for a second (only because I hadn’t heard anyone just come our and say it like that) but I just smiled, said yes and moved on. But it did feel strange. Oh so they can see it…!

Another time, we were at a friends’ BBQ where lots of families we didn’t know were milling about. A child of around 6 was playing near Audrey and asked me why her tongue was sticking out. I just said she was dribbly and teething and it was just something she does. But at the time I had a little moment where I realised I was so used to Audrey’s tongue sticking out, it hadn’t occurred to me that this might be ‘something different’ about her that others would notice.

One of many strange worries I had in the early days, was of someone recognising her DS and saying something very unpleasant. Perhaps asking me if she was ‘retarded’ or a ‘mong’, neither of which have cropped up at this early stage. As time went on, I did start to chastise myself (“What decade did you think we are living in?!?”), but actually had a mum of a 3 year old boy with DS confirm someone did once ask if he was a ‘mongoloid’. I was stunned, but she said it was a very old lady and she was actually very nice, she just used a dated word and meant no offence.

In our short 15 months in this world, we haven’t had a lot of negativity to deal with. In the early days, there were some people who struggled with what to say and made some comments that were… Awkward… But mostly well-meaning and not nasty. People just saying how ‘devastated’ we must be or how ‘awful’ the news was… Which, once you’ve moved on and embraced the baby you’ve been given, is not they way to describe the happy event of having a baby.

My uncle also had a classic line… When we were discussing sleep and night feeds (which every one is obsessed with when making baby small talk), I referred to our NCT group and said we were lucky as some of the babies were waking a lot more than Audrey… To which he said (somehow thinking I was taking about a group of babies with DS and that some of them were ‘worse'(?) than Audrey); “Oh yes, some of them can be very disabled, can’t they?”. Yeesh.

In fact that was probably the main crux of any early negativity – misunderstanding that 90% of the time I was entering into a discussion about babies in general, not specifically babies with DS. Telling my mum we had started baby sign; “But she’s not deaf, I know some of them can be, but you can tell she can hear”. Cue discussion about baby sign being useful for all babies.

Mostly I worry that it my own insecurities/defensiveness that makes me read innocent comments as negative. When people ask about the possibility of us having baby number 2, I always feel as though they are surprised when we say we do want more children or I feel the question is worded as “So do you think you’ll have any more children?” and the end of the sentence (that is unspoken) is “…after what you’ve been through with this one?”. Yes, I’m reading into this too much!

One of the strangest places to encounter negativity (which was really just someone being honest, but made me uncomfortable), surprisingly came from another DS mama. I was at our pre-school DS group when Audrey was probably only around 5 months old and I was keen to meet a lady who had chosen a nursery near us for her little boy with DS and I wanted to know what the nursery was like etc. She came to the group with her new baby boy (without DS) as her oldest was at nursery that day.

She told me I was lucky Audrey kept her tongue in her mouth (things have changed a bit since then!), because the tongue hanging out “did not look good”. And then she told me how they had the amniocentesis for their second child as they “definitely didn’t want another child with DS”. Hmmm, I think I said nothing at that point. I asked about the nursery and she said they picked it because they had lived on the same street… so that wasn’t the glowing reference for the place I was hoping for. I haven’t actually seen her since, but it was certainly interesting meeting someone who felt that having a child with DS meant they had to take screening that bit further to ensure they didn’t have another. Ted and I have said that if we are lucky enough to have another baby, it’s probably not worth bothering with the screening as what difference would it make? We wouldn’t abort and although a bit of warning might help us prepare, we had no warning with Audrey and that turned out fine! Ha, well, better than fine – awesome!

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Stuff and things 4

A couple of weeks ago Audrey signed for the first time and the word she signed was…. DADDY! Of course it bloody was. We were naturally very excited and she is simply understanding language more and more, which is very promising. She shakes or nods her head and is a good (loud!) babbler, so I am also very hopeful that words will come soonish, we shall see…

We went to visit friends in London on Friday, so Audrey had her first trip up there, we used the sling rather than the buggy to make the tube easier to handle. She coped very well, especially considering the rammed train journey home and everything generally being very loud and crowded. We hit Borough Market and spent crazy money on crazy food… Fancy cheese, truffle honey and ridiculous donuts filled to the brim with custard. Our friends have twins arriving any day, so they needed the calories to keep their strength up!

Unfortunately Audrey has picked up a bug from nursery and has been on/off ill since Friday afternoon. Today was going to be one of my naughty days off, where I go to the cinema and relax whilst Audrey is at nursery… Unfortunately her raised temperature, lack of interest in food and incessant cough were impossible to ignore, so I am currently watching Nurse Jackie whilst she naps and then we’re off to the doctor at 11am.

Here she was yesterday lying on me, breathing through her mouth as her nose was so snotty…

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Music and lyrics

Audrey first heard music (outside of the womb) in the arms of her daddy whilst mummy took a shower. We were in the room on the baby unit, where we had to spend the night to see how we got on with Audrey. A sort of transitional home from home, with nurses checking her over and weighing her (oh that obsession with her weight! So glad it’s over). We would not be allowed home unless she gained weight!

I entered the bedroom to be greeted by The Supremes singing “Baby Love”, Ted cradling Audrey in tears. She was 3 weeks old and looked like a music fan already. It was a bit of a turning point as she was no longer on the ward and seemed more like “ours”, plus a reaction to music made her that more… normal. I know that might sound ridiculous, but when your head is full of “difficulties” and “special needs”, it makes you think things won’t ever be “normal” and you worry what sort of interaction you might get from your little one. Of course I know now that those worries were pointless, but every little moment like this one served to teach me that.

We have played Audrey a lot of music since then, everything from The Beastie Boys to Blur to opera. She likes a good beat and from around 13/14 months she started dancing (rocking back and forth whilst sitting), which is amazing.

Of course Audrey loves the irritating music from a tacky, bright, light-up toy too and is getting quite adept at bashing the right places to get the music going!

Thankfully she is just as happy to listen to music we like, especially when we sing along and dance around the room. In fact, I’ve had several of those funny lyric-realisation moments that have led to tears… You know when you’re a teenager and suddenly you understand what the love songs are about? (Imagine me, 90s teen, ‘Again’ by Janet Jackson on repeat…). Well you get to experience that revelation again after having a baby.

When Stevie Wonder (one of my favourites), sings “Isn’t she lovely, made from love” I get such a warm, positive feeling. “Made from love” just gets me every time. It sums up making Audrey.

I’m also a Justin Timberlake fan and although I’m aware ‘Mirrors’ is about his wife, there was a sudden point listening to the lyrics that really struck me and now it has become an Audrey song…

I’m lookin’ right at the other half of me,
The vacancy that sat in my heart,
Is a space that you now hold.
Show me how to fight for now,
And I’ll tell you, baby it was easy
Comin’ back here to you once I figured it out,
You were right here all along.

It reminds me of when we reminisced about Audrey’s scan picture (she was pouting or sticking out her tongue) and the fact that she was such an active, kicky baby. There we were, looking at her a few weeks old, little tongue sticking out, as she kicked her legs… And then we realised there was no need to mourn the baby we thought was there – it was Audrey all along!

Here’s that cheeky tongue:

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Stuff and things 3 collides with special needs…

We went to a wedding reception in Hackney on Friday night. It was quite a big deal to be leaving Audrey with Bibi (Grandma Sarah) for the night, first time Ted and I had both stayed away without her. Sometimes I find it hard to relinquish control over Audrey… I never thought I’d be a routine mum, but I majorly am! I have decided to blame those first months when I was told not to leave Audrey longer than 4 hours without a feed… In those early days the pressure to “grow her” rested heavy on my shoulders and the slow, disappointing weight gain felt like my failure (since it was my breast milk trying to work its magic).

But I digress… Our hotel was… scary, weird, cheap, but thankfully reasonably clean and very close to the wedding venue. It was a trendy London brewery, with free beer, so Ted was of no use to me from around 11pm that night to around 12pm the next day!

We returned via Arundel to collect the little monkey (who had been happy and fine with Bibi, of course) and our return journey to Brighton was a debacle. Cancelled trains led to a brutal all-round-the-houses 2 hour trip on the 700 bus from Littlehampton to Brighton.

Audrey of course slept for much of the journey, but she was also fed her (emergency purchase!) Ella’s on the bus.

At the front of the bus (as close to the driver as you could hope for), were two young male adults with special needs talking loudly and regularly checking in with their guardian, Holly, by shouting back at her across the bus. One of the lads proudly declared he was driving the bus and they were definitely enjoying the journey more than anyone else.

Pretty much every time we passed through a new town/village, they would get super excited;

“I know this place!!”
“This is where Frankie’s nan lives!”
“We’ve been here before!”
“Does anyone need Durrington station? Can you hear me? DURRINGTON? Anyone? We’re helping the bus driver!”

The highlight of this commentary being the moment we arrived in Shoreham and they saw a other bus they recognised;

“I know that bus very well. I know everything about that bus. We went on that bus all the way to Southsea…”
Holly: “Not with me, I’ve never been to Southsea.”
“No, we went with Frankie and she said ‘Never again'”.

This had half the bus in stitches.

Around this time a large, partially sighted young man got on the bus and sat near us. It became apparent he too had special needs and he started up a conversation, saying “I hope you don’t mind, I like to chat to people”. We were very obliging and he asked us lots of questions about where we worked, what songs Audrey listens to at nursery, where we’d been that day… But the main focus was Clark’s (his name was Clark) diving practice. He had been diving off the diving board most of the day and is gearing up to jump from the highest board.

He wanted to know what would we do if he was to dive from the highest board?

“We would cheer and clap.”

He then explained that he always shouted as he dived; “123 – UNIVERSITY!”.

The conversation was often a test of our intelligence and memory….

Clark: “What will you hear when I dive?”
Us: “123 – university!”
C: “First you’ll hear the ‘boing’ of the diving board, then you’ll hear me say ‘123 – UNIVERSITY!’, then you’ll hear a splash. What will you hear when I dive?”
Us (catching on): “The ‘boing’ of the diving board.”
C: “Then what?”
Us: “123 – university!”
C: “Then what will you hear?”
Us: “Splash!”
C: “Then what will you do?”
Us: “We will cheer and clap.”

Clark helped us pass the time between Shoreham and Brighton and finally we were home.

The presence of these people with special needs on the bus didn’t teach us an amazing life lesson – this story doesn’t have a climactic ending… It’s just that; of everyone on that journey, they were by far the ones having the most fun. Between me (practically in tears as we rushed to get food for Audrey, because I was so upset with myself for not being prepared and for her routine being thrown – I try to be casual, I fail!)… the woman who had a go at every train guard and for some reason was travelling all day and hadn’t eaten, but had no money to buy food… the people queuing in the road obstructing the bus… basically all of that stress – there were these journey companions who were bloody loving it! And a little bit of that enthusiasm did rub off – everyone had a giggle.

Oh to be a bus lover.

Unsurprisingly, no photos were taken during the above trip, but here is Audrey being red cheeked but beautiful today…

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