It’s now the height of Summer, and I am currently 24 weeks pregnant – officially over halfway there now, and after our recent scan, I am still finding it incredible to think that a little person is growing inside my belly that has totally defied nature. I have been told that the Merina Coil is 99.7% effective. Well, I suppose someone has to be that 0.3%
Little man is growing correctly but is very low down and with a low lying placenta and agonising pelvic pain, it makes walking uncomfortable. My back is aching like crazy. I am finding it increasingly more challenging to sit still for long periods of time and equally painful to walk around without feeling pressure in the nether regions… so what better idea than to book a holiday to South of France to walk around the local quaint villages and take in the sights while sitting still,m and confined for 8 hours in our car driving to the beautiful accommodation. Perfect plan Leanne. Well done.
If you have never been to Bellac, France before. Go. It’s beautiful. If you want to stay somewhere amazingly quirky – stay at Le Petit Fort Hobbit House .
The 15th Century house is incredible. The view from the balcony as we enjoyed our BBQ was breathtaking. I would thoroughly recommend this house to parents who like something a bit different, however, if you have a toddler be prepared to bring a stair gate – you could have a nasty accident on the original spiral staircases without one on the living floor! Of course, this holiday home is not for everyone, but we LOVED it and our older children (age 8 and 10 at the time) adored it! It’s truly one of a kind!
You can check out our review of this fantastic property on Airbnb here
Travelling when pregnant is ok if you do not have a husband who likes to do long stretches of the journey and moan when we have to do a wee stop for the kids. Honestly, he gets behind the wheel on a road trip to France, and he turns into a crazed out of space being I have never seen before. We can’t stop for food but equally, don’t eat in the car and drop crumbs everywhere. We must stay hydrated as it’s scorching in the vehicle, but don’t drink to excess, so you need the loo. We should take in the sights and avoid using iPods and iPads, but don’t keep asking “are we there yet” or “what’s that” nor state that you are bored. We should listen to the same Red Hot Chili Peppers album on repeat for at least 3 hours… for no reason at all other than he forgot to pack any other music!
As the driver, he will then proceed to moan about how terrible the French are at driving; one must state every 30 seconds “Look at that fool. Look, how he is driving. Who does he think he is?! The French have an inability to design roads.” etc etc.
**nb: some words have been replaced due to language used**
When the kids eventually do get bored, why not start a conversation about Renault? Apparently, Renault is a terrible car manufacturer that has no pride and should this be questioned or should anyone query Daddy on his reasoning behind this, you will have ‘that look in the rearview mirror’ and instantly know where you stand. Instead, we decide to play ‘i-Spy’. The boys and I would spot things like cows, bridges, clouds etc. However, when it was Daddy’s turn, we had:
BD: Bad driver
SFM: Smelly French Man
ID: Irritated Daddy
You get the idea.
And what made it worse? My Mum was in the car. With a cough. One of those coughs that imbed itself into your soul and eats you from the inside out; that’s not for the person infected with such a diseased choke, but for those trapped inside a car for 8 hours and stuck in traffic in Paris having to listen to it. It was agonisingly deafening and made you shudder.
We eventually arrive at the accommodation, and I am forced to run, limp, scamper and claw at the door of where we are staying. My bladder is the size of Brazil (and I am covered in crumbs), and I am so grateful to be out of the diseased “are we there yet” car that I’m desperate to lock myself in the bathroom for some time! After my camel urination, a sigh of relief and my healthy tears of joy, I look at where we are spending the next week, and I can confirm the journey was so worth it.
Finally, Beard relaxes once I steer him to this lovely view and shove a large glass of Merlot into his hand. Ahhhh, bliss.
I won’t bore you with the details of the remainder of our family break away nor will I force you to view a 3-hour slide show of our holiday snapshots, instead I will tell you of the journey home in a nutshell.
1. We are supposed to vacate by 10am. We forget and leave at lunchtime, leaving lots of items of clothing behind and not realising until we are home.
2. Both Finn and Josh catch my Mums cough. Consequently, we have a stunning chorus of three brain wrenching coughers in the back of the car now.
3. We get stuck in traffic for three hours trying to get through Paris and start to run out of petrol.
4. We chug into a petrol station to find that there is an hour queue… Really? Yes, really.
5. We then realise that I have booked the wrong ferry home and we have missed it.
6. We are halfway into our journey home, and I get cystitis, resulting in us stopping every half an hour for me to sit on a toilet, one drip to escape my bladder and then 5 minutes of crying.
7. We arrive at the port to be told there are no boats until the following day.
BUT after I break down crying and informing the lovely French man that not only am I pregnant, but I continuously want to wee myself, my Mum may be murdered by my husband, that one child is choking up a lung and my other son who is Autistic is currently covering himself in blankets in the back of the car in an attempt to see how red he can make himself. Looking confused, he pauses, thinks for a moment and gets us booked on a ferry.
I am not sure if he spoke English but he looked scared and bewildered. I love the French. Especially this man… we eventually got home 7 hours later than we should have and no one is talking. Best family holiday ever.
To avoid all of this you can check out our 21 Tips When Holidaying With Kids here