Postcards from Portugal: Needles, Vino and nine more days…

 You know how it is with postcards, you write them and they arrived a week after you get home.  Well these next few blogs are from my last two weeks which were spent sitting on a beach in Portugal.

May 19th 2013

Dear Mr Postman,

I imagine since the world went world wide web mad you don’t get to read as many postcards as you did before email was invented.  So I imagine you are in for a bit of a treat Mr Postman when you realise I am going to write to you at least once on this holiday.

So Mr Postman, it is amazing how quickly I can throw myself out of bed at 4am when a holiday is involved.  When my alarm went off it was like Brad Pitt had woken me with a kiss and I tore off my covers and threw myself into the day.

He who helped create them looked like he could gleefully strangle me when I presented him with a steaming hot cup of 4am tea yet he managed to wrap his lips around the mug and swallow it down.  I am sure Mr Postman you would have been more grateful.

The kids woke with a boom of excitement, twin girl sprouted wings and flew from the bottom bunk into the car and BB cried out with joy when I told her where we were going at such an ungodly hour.

“Hollibobs, Portugal, me.” She whooped as I fastened her in her car seat.

I sat in the passenger seat of the Ford with most of out wardrobe in the boot and smiled.  The kids were elated, husband was slowly waking and I was happy.
Of course the Swiss Family Robinson routine never lasts long in our house and before we had traveled double digits in miles the cracks were starting to show.  By the time we arrived at Luton airport I was seriously considering ebaying the kids and sodding off for ten days alone.

Going through departures was stressful, we were carrying a bag of 400 needles (we like to be prepared and I am sure you probably know Mr Postman from the amount of NHS letters we get that Twin Girl has Type 1 diabetes) and twin boy delighted in sharing this with everyone we met.

“We have needles, blooming loads” he commented to a man in a uniform.

“We have a letter,” quickly followed he who helped create them.

“We have thousands of needles,” he said to the lady by the x ray machine.

“We have a letter,” sighed his long suffering father for the millionth time whilst trying to gag his son.

As I said, it was stressful Mr Postie, the urge to down vodka at the bar at 7.25am was remarkable strong.

The flight was beautifully non eventful the kids did us proud and diabetes behaved itself in the clouds.

We touched down on portuguese soil to the sound of rain on the window and even my optimism suffered a blow if I am honest, but by the time we arrived at the hotel the sun was shining and my spirits had lifted.

The kids were spectacularly over excited, as twin boy chowed down on his third lunch (all inclusive) he declared through a mouthful of bread and cheese that this was the best day ever.  BB literally screamed with pleasure when seeing the pool and the park and twin girl melted with happiness when she realised there was a heated indoor pool so she could escape the icy grasp of the outside water.

First day melted into first night and after one too many wines I sat back in my chair in the bar and beamed merrily at my children.  I am a bit of a nightmare Mr Postman when it comes to a free bar, I get a little over excited with the vino.

BB dominated the dance floor, and I realised that this time last year she had literally just come out of cast.  Do you remember Mr Postie, when she was stuck in that bloody awful spica cast for three months, it was around the time you bought us lots of gifts from our lovely friends and family. Last year I couldn’t even imagine her walking and suddenly she was in front of me trying to do a waltz with a little girl she had befriended.  The quiet little girl who underwent surgery and lived for such a long time confined in the cast has all but gone and in her place dances a beautiful, bright, terribly outspoken little girl.

She is adorable Mr Postman, my heart simply collapses with love for her on a daily basis. She will turn three whilst she is in Portugal, don’t worry about her cards we will open them when we get home, she simply cannot wait to be big.

The first night was lovely, relaxing, fun filled and relatively alcoholic.

Bring on the next nine days.

Love Jane (and the gang)

xxxxxx

To get more Northernmum in your life you can…

Follow me on Twitter: @janeblackmore

Like me on Facebook

Or subscribe using that little box on the right