We're back in the 'Swich! Fortunately (or unfortunately if you are betting on the entertainment stakes) it was a straightforward trip that had a few snow flurries along the way.
The most exciting it got was James throwing every single dummy I gave him between himself and the car door. Normally when James throws out his dummy either Rob or I will shout, "Dummy down!" but we lost our sense of humour after the fifth time.
Also, every time we drive through Penistone before or after we go over the tops, Rob sniggers uncontrollably. It really is like having 3 children at times.
I asked Rob if, when we got home, I could have a Mother's Day bath. This differs from a normal bath because it is an annual event whereby Rob can act as security and I am guaranteed a bath without having Bethan wanting to wash my hair at every given opportunity.
I wanted to relax in the suds whilst listening to the new Radio 4 production of Ibsen's 'A Doll's House' on BBC iplayer.
As the journey progressed I couldn't contain my excitement because a) after being 13 years away from uni I finally remembered Ibsen's first name and b) I would be able to shave my legs for the first time in 13 days without the fear of hacking off my ankle because I am so worried about what Bethan is up to whilst I'm giving myself the fortnightly MOT.
My enthusiasm spilled over into reliving memories of my time in Edinburgh when I went to see Chekov's "Three Sisters" at The Festival Theatre.
As Rob pulled off onto the slip road of junction 53, he said, "I didn't know Chekov from Star Trek had written a play". That and the Penistone saga got me thinking about alimony as we drove around the big roundabout outside the Asda's (where I'm from all of the major supermarkets are preceded by the definite article. If you just said "outside Asda" people would think you were daft).
It has been a beautiful weekend and now I'm back I feel sad but also very lucky. Seeing a good friend of mine dealing with raw grief made me realise, yet again, just how lucky I am.
Can't sleep so I thought I would listen to 'A Doll's House' finally on iplayer but it isn't 'A Doll's House', it's Hedda Gabler. I finally remember Ibsen's name and then forget what bloody play it is! Might just watch the Dancing on Ice final on ITV player instead.