I wanted to write this post back in February when I returned from my first solo trip with Little A to the big smoke to go and see ‘daddy’ who’s working away this year. Before we left for London I imagined our time there to be filled with relaxing walks with the pram, stopping off at coffee shops and generally just feeling like I was winning at life.
The reality couldn’t have been further from the truth. For starters both me and Little A had colds. I was super tired and my anxiety levels were through the roof. I just found it so stressful being well and truly out of my comfort zone in such a busy place.
Before travelling I had meticulously planned everything to make sure I could use tube stations with lifts (the TFL website is brilliant for helping to plan journeys using full step-free and escalator-free access), knew the route I would be walking and how to get to where we were staying. In being so caught up with the little details, I had forgotten to change Little A from leaving home in Glasgow to reaching London 6 hours later. So by the time we were trying to find our accommodation we were both in tears with me swearing I would never leave the house again. Thank god these crazy emotions pass with a cup of tea, cuddles and some sleep!
I had expected people to be really against us which was stupid because most Londoners are actually incredibly friendly, helpful and kind and when you’ve got a pram in tow they show just how kind they can be. It’s amazing how much a smile and a few kind words can help lift your spirits.
From the 3 women that simply smiled at me and asked if I was ok on the tube. To the girl who made sure we didn’t get smooshed against the door when a ton of people got on. To the lovely man who made sure me and my bag (which was about to get caught in the door of the tube) made it onto the train safely that he got stuck on the platform and had to wait for the next one but still smiled and waved. And finally the lovely guy who bought me a cup of tea on the train home when it got a bit stressful.
Boy I learnt a lot that weekend. When I stepped foot on the train to go home on Monday morning I felt proud of myself for getting through the weekend but oh so very relieved to be going home. I honestly thought I’d never be stepping foot in London ever again with a baby in tow.
But we did. As I knew we would after some time. The wandering spirit in me always wins over the worry thankfully. Fast forward three months and we returned for the best long weekend.
Get us outside 