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ailbheJust after nine, Emer and I collected Linnea and her friend from his house, and we all four marched smartly to the train station. We got a train to the town centre, visited the toilets, and then walked to the river to find the cinema. (Disability fail number one: the escalator was out of order and there were no staff on the ground floor to operate the key-access-only lift; summoning staff from elsewhere with bells and buzzers wasn't as effective as getting someone going up the stairs to ask someone to come down. However, the person who came down was great).
At the cinema, I went to get water - and discovered that it was cheaper to buy the special kids' snack deal than just water, so we each got popcorn and a bottle of water and a little chocolate bar. Then the same guy who operated the lift showed us to our seats, which is an unusual extra service for which I was very grateful.
We were going to see The Princess and the Frog. First off, it was too loud for Linnea - her ears aren't used to that kind of volume at all, and she spent a long time with her fingers in her ears or her hands over them. Secondly, she was ok with the two deaths in it, but the bad magic really, really, really, REALLY, really bothered her - she screamed at least once and asked to go home several times, but I held her on my lap (suboptimal for my dodgy hips, but there you go) and she was, in the end, glad to have seen the film, and she enjoyed the happy ending with the good magic and the dead firefly turning into a star.
Afterwards (Disability fail number two: The emergency help cord in the disabled loo was tied up out of reach so that no-one could pull it) we went outside and I sat on a bench to allow my hips to recover a bit, and then we got a train. Throughout, all the children were models of good behaviour and cooperative safety-minded obedience.
Which was just as well, because when we were getting off the train the two older ones hopped off ahead of me, and I was standing in the doorway with my crutches on the platform to make sure Emer got off ok as the doors closed, and just as she got past me the doors closed on my hips.
So I hauled myself off the train, sort of, and sort of fell. But slowly. So I didn't fall straight down a 6-inch step (might be higher, didn't measure) onto my belly, but slightly slowly, first onto my feet but unbalanced and with really useless hips, and then gradually around and onto my back - Linnea actually caught my head as I fell so that it didn't hit the tarmac, which I barely noticed at the time but now find shockingly presence-of-mindish. I have no idea how I got out of the crutches and didn't end up cracking an arm or a shin on them, but I did.
I lay still to gather my wits, and had some Braxton-Hicks contractions, which happen when I'm in pain or dehydrated or very stressed, more so than at other times. And the children all backed up away from the platform edge and against the wall, which was totally sensible and brilliant of them.
Much to my surprise, the driver or guard got out and asked me if I was ok. I said I didn't know. He asked if he could help me up and I said no, not yet, because I didn't know if I could stand yet. After a bit I asked him to help me turn onto my side, which he did. Then the guard or driver got out of the other end of the train and asked if I wanted an ambulance.
Top tip: If you want to alarm a train driver while you are lying on a platform with your crutches scattered around you and your arms around your noticable pregnant bump, say "It's ok, it's just contractions, I think." They really didn't find that as reassuring as I did, apparently.
But I managed to persuade them not to send an ambulance.
After a bit I asked for my crutches and the guard gave me one and Linnea's friend handed me the other, and the children all went ahead to the safest bit of the platform, by the foot of the stairs, where there's a bench, and I followed very slowly after. I couldn't actually lift my feet off the ground, so I dragged them along using the crutches much more heavily than usual. After I sat down for a bit the BH really wore off, and Emer let me drink some of her water, and I shook like a leaf and they said Ambulance again, and I carefully explained that going to hospital with three children, not all of whom were my own, would not improve my day at all, and that what I needed was to go home, and the ambulance couldn't help me there. I really really wanted a cup of tea, and the ambulance people couldn't give me one of those, either. They saw the logic of that in the end but took my name and address and phone number so that they could file a full incident report.
At some point I phoned Rob and once they knew he was coming they were a lot happier, but I still had to say "I really think you should go and drive a train or something," to stop them watching me. There were workmen in orange suits on the opposite platform and they went over and I am certain they asked them to keep an eye on me, because after they had gone and I stopped sitting on the bench (designed for people much taller than I am, requires a fair bit of leg use to stay upright on) and lay down on the ground with Emer's coat for a pillow, one of the orange-clad workmen crossed over and just... casually leaned against a nearby railing. He asked twice if someone was coming for us.
The children, I repeat, were marvellous. When we'd been waiting for Rob about three minutes Linnea's friend said "Why is he taking so LONG?!" but other than that they didn't complain at all.
Rob came and helped me up the steps and across the bridge, and then into the trike, and sitting in the trike was great. It's a low seat designed for child-height people, so it put no strain whatsoever on my hips in any way and made me feel much much better very quickly. We picked up Linnea's friend's father and little sister en route and then my friend and her two children, so arrived at the house six children and four adults, so I just sat on the garden bench in the sun (perfect height, no hip strain) while people brought me tea and painkillers and settled the children and set up the garden chairs and parasol, and Rob went back to work, and then we just vegged and drank tea and those of us who were hungry ate and those who weren't, didn't.
And then they all went away and Rob came home again and our dinner guests arrived and Rob finished cooking and we had a lovely dinner.
Dairy-free vegetarian lasagne, salad, dairy- and soy-free icecream, mixed berries in clafouti, and oat cream. It was lovely. And because we had someone to share it with, we opened a bottle of cider we'd been given a while ago.
Then they went home too, and I went to bed and had a nap, and Rob put the girls to bed, and I bet that right now he's asleep on Emer's bed, fully clothed, with her arms locked around his neck like a vice.
I must go on my blistered foot (oh, yes, I need new shoes) and wake him up. Poor Rob.
At the cinema, I went to get water - and discovered that it was cheaper to buy the special kids' snack deal than just water, so we each got popcorn and a bottle of water and a little chocolate bar. Then the same guy who operated the lift showed us to our seats, which is an unusual extra service for which I was very grateful.
We were going to see The Princess and the Frog. First off, it was too loud for Linnea - her ears aren't used to that kind of volume at all, and she spent a long time with her fingers in her ears or her hands over them. Secondly, she was ok with the two deaths in it, but the bad magic really, really, really, REALLY, really bothered her - she screamed at least once and asked to go home several times, but I held her on my lap (suboptimal for my dodgy hips, but there you go) and she was, in the end, glad to have seen the film, and she enjoyed the happy ending with the good magic and the dead firefly turning into a star.
Afterwards (Disability fail number two: The emergency help cord in the disabled loo was tied up out of reach so that no-one could pull it) we went outside and I sat on a bench to allow my hips to recover a bit, and then we got a train. Throughout, all the children were models of good behaviour and cooperative safety-minded obedience.
Which was just as well, because when we were getting off the train the two older ones hopped off ahead of me, and I was standing in the doorway with my crutches on the platform to make sure Emer got off ok as the doors closed, and just as she got past me the doors closed on my hips.
So I hauled myself off the train, sort of, and sort of fell. But slowly. So I didn't fall straight down a 6-inch step (might be higher, didn't measure) onto my belly, but slightly slowly, first onto my feet but unbalanced and with really useless hips, and then gradually around and onto my back - Linnea actually caught my head as I fell so that it didn't hit the tarmac, which I barely noticed at the time but now find shockingly presence-of-mindish. I have no idea how I got out of the crutches and didn't end up cracking an arm or a shin on them, but I did.
I lay still to gather my wits, and had some Braxton-Hicks contractions, which happen when I'm in pain or dehydrated or very stressed, more so than at other times. And the children all backed up away from the platform edge and against the wall, which was totally sensible and brilliant of them.
Much to my surprise, the driver or guard got out and asked me if I was ok. I said I didn't know. He asked if he could help me up and I said no, not yet, because I didn't know if I could stand yet. After a bit I asked him to help me turn onto my side, which he did. Then the guard or driver got out of the other end of the train and asked if I wanted an ambulance.
Top tip: If you want to alarm a train driver while you are lying on a platform with your crutches scattered around you and your arms around your noticable pregnant bump, say "It's ok, it's just contractions, I think." They really didn't find that as reassuring as I did, apparently.
But I managed to persuade them not to send an ambulance.
After a bit I asked for my crutches and the guard gave me one and Linnea's friend handed me the other, and the children all went ahead to the safest bit of the platform, by the foot of the stairs, where there's a bench, and I followed very slowly after. I couldn't actually lift my feet off the ground, so I dragged them along using the crutches much more heavily than usual. After I sat down for a bit the BH really wore off, and Emer let me drink some of her water, and I shook like a leaf and they said Ambulance again, and I carefully explained that going to hospital with three children, not all of whom were my own, would not improve my day at all, and that what I needed was to go home, and the ambulance couldn't help me there. I really really wanted a cup of tea, and the ambulance people couldn't give me one of those, either. They saw the logic of that in the end but took my name and address and phone number so that they could file a full incident report.
At some point I phoned Rob and once they knew he was coming they were a lot happier, but I still had to say "I really think you should go and drive a train or something," to stop them watching me. There were workmen in orange suits on the opposite platform and they went over and I am certain they asked them to keep an eye on me, because after they had gone and I stopped sitting on the bench (designed for people much taller than I am, requires a fair bit of leg use to stay upright on) and lay down on the ground with Emer's coat for a pillow, one of the orange-clad workmen crossed over and just... casually leaned against a nearby railing. He asked twice if someone was coming for us.
The children, I repeat, were marvellous. When we'd been waiting for Rob about three minutes Linnea's friend said "Why is he taking so LONG?!" but other than that they didn't complain at all.
Rob came and helped me up the steps and across the bridge, and then into the trike, and sitting in the trike was great. It's a low seat designed for child-height people, so it put no strain whatsoever on my hips in any way and made me feel much much better very quickly. We picked up Linnea's friend's father and little sister en route and then my friend and her two children, so arrived at the house six children and four adults, so I just sat on the garden bench in the sun (perfect height, no hip strain) while people brought me tea and painkillers and settled the children and set up the garden chairs and parasol, and Rob went back to work, and then we just vegged and drank tea and those of us who were hungry ate and those who weren't, didn't.
And then they all went away and Rob came home again and our dinner guests arrived and Rob finished cooking and we had a lovely dinner.
Dairy-free vegetarian lasagne, salad, dairy- and soy-free icecream, mixed berries in clafouti, and oat cream. It was lovely. And because we had someone to share it with, we opened a bottle of cider we'd been given a while ago.
Then they went home too, and I went to bed and had a nap, and Rob put the girls to bed, and I bet that right now he's asleep on Emer's bed, fully clothed, with her arms locked around his neck like a vice.
I must go on my blistered foot (oh, yes, I need new shoes) and wake him up. Poor Rob.