Before I went, I had a post in mind about travelling with two small children. It was going to be something wise and profound which would have people nodding sagely and thinking 'I learned something today'. Obviously I got more than I bargained for and so, much like the plane on the return journey, my foray into travel blogging didn't quite take off as intended.
All I am saying is that it's not fun meeting the right person who's home is so far away. I guess my advice is although you can't choose who you fall for you can choose how you handle the situation and maybe some things are best left where you found them but if you're like me you often have to take the chance to find out.
I consider myself a strong woman and lately have met other women just like me, mamas who are trying to continue their development whilst doing a million other things. It's hard. I know I chose to have a child but I did not know how all consuming it would be and that part of me would grieve the freedom I used to have in abundance.
Now, I'm not saying I'm an angel, but I'm normally a fairly chilled out person (if my family are reading this they've probably wet themselves laughing already). But there's just something, well several things, about airports that make me lose my mind. I go from cool, collected world traveller to raging bitch beast in the time it takes someone to ask "Did you pack your bags yourself?".