Take this week for instance. MD has two nights in Bristol. I have an 8am start in Essex. And would you believe (of course you would - we all know and love the law of Murphy) that it all falls in the same 48 hour period. So comes that farcical, logstical merry-go-round of logistcal planning that is so familiar to working parents everywhere.
"which car are you taking?"
"Ok, then we need to swap the car seat over"
"What time will you be back - I'll have to leave as soon as you get in"
"Sure, but I have a meeting that will likely overrun so I might be later than usual"
Bless the (paternal) grandparents for assisting with the otherwise unsolvable conundrum in this instance. Whilst MD and I passed each other on the doorstep last night (me returning from work, him to leave for his three hour drive), I will now be meeting Grandpa this evening at a convenient halfway point (the carpark of a well known major food retailer - every little certainly does help in this instance) to handover the small person. An operation further complicated by the need for me to remember how to swap the car seat from one car to another,
I then get to drive back, hop on a train to London and fall in to a questionable bed in an overpriced London hotel ready for my day of fun on Friday.
When did life become so complicated. And more to the point,when did it become so damn tiring?
So when people ask me why I'm stopping work so far ahead of my due date, or exactly what I am going to do for those few weeks before the baby comes, I have a whole host of potential answers (some unprintable) that I could offer in response. But instead, I keep the answer simple: I hope to spend less time worrying about which car the car seat is in.
Perhaps we should just buy another car seat.