Before babies, I never seemed to have a problem leaving the house. I’ve never been particularly organised, and I was always maybe a teeny bit (let’s say “fashionably”) late, but I was able to leave the house in, say, 15 minutes if my lie-in required it. During those 15 minutes I would even manage to brush my hair and slap on some make-up (both a distant memory these days…).
So it was a bit of a shock when Alpine Boy was born and I realised that leaving the house was in fact a military operation. I soon worked out that if I wanted to go out at a certain time, I would have to start getting ready an hour before. At least. If I wanted to wash my hair we were looking at another hour. Gradually, as time went on (and as he grew out of needing huge amounts of stuff everywhere we went) I perfected my preparation skills and, by the time he was three, I was a lean, mean, house-leaving machine (and longer lie-ins returned, hurrah).
But now that Alpine Girl has joined our happy family we’re (nearly) back to point zero – yet again it takes forever to rally the troops, pack the bags, feed and change the baby, and actually walk out the door. In general (and thanks to the miracle that is dry-shampoo), I’ve managed to speed it up to 30 minutes of preparation time, on a good day. Monday was not a good day.