We have all just returned from the best short break to Naples. I have always wanted to go to Italy, possibly entirely for the food – I even had a checklist of food and drink I was determined to try. Perfetto. (I even learnt some Italian, to the point that a waiter asked if I was Italian because I spoke so well. I think I was being flattered, but it did make the 5 months of effort feel worthwhile!)

The traffic in Naples is crazy, in as much as it literally doesn’t stop. You have to walk in front of it in the hope cars will slow down enough to let you pass and that mopeds and motorbikes won’t crash into you. That’s fun for a woman not steady on her feet and in charge of 2 little girls. Or not.

But, with Kev’s help, I handled myself well. I dealt with my emotional self every day, meditating and journalling and Kev helped me with my physical self, holding my arm as we walked down the cobbled streets, even if he was also inevitably carrying bags and the baby on his shoulders. What a hero.

We ate beautiful pasta and ice cream, or pizza and tiramisu. We even went to Pompeii, which I’m not sure I’d recommend to anyone with mobility issues. It is steep and uneven, but by God, is it beautiful. It’s incredible to think it has stood since long before I was ever here and will be there long after.

The weather was beautiful, my muscles were warm. I think I need the Mediterranean lifestyle, if only I didn’t already know I’d die of a self inflicted carb overdose.

I held myself together well. I felt peaceful, glad and so lucky. Kev had organised amazingly comfortable transport from the airport and we were putting our Christmas tree up when we got home. (No judgement, we Foxes unashamedly enjoy Christmas as a long season. We like the lights and tacky decs and we’re not sorry, so Christmas starts in our house after my lovely mother-in-law’s birthday, which was our whole wonderful reason for heading to Italy in the first place.)

So we got home, all feeling lovely after a marvellous trip. But back here, I seemed to sleep worse. My sleep, since the clocks have gone back, is very disturbed and I am the worst person in the world for disturbed or not enough sleep. My whole body needs sleep so much. I guess it’s because my body, atypical as it is, is worn faster than anyone able-bodied. I’ve always been told this by those in the know but have always dismissed it. Turns out, it’s painfully, undeniably true. I aim, even on holiday to be in bed by 9pm, because I just need to be. There’s no functional way around that. Not if you’re me.

But, the point I am trying to make, in a very roundabout way, it was the perfect trip. How bloody wonderful. I’m glad to be in my own home, with my Christmas tree adorned with my darling kids handmade decorations from years going so quickly by. But… somehow I am sad. So, so sad.

I know that the trip must have been everything I wanted it to be, because I have cried pretty solidly since we returned home. I love my routines, I am more and more comfortable with my life as it is currently, but I am devestated. I have never experienced post-holiday blues like this before. I miss the warmth, the language, the smiles, the views.

This come down is harsh and confusing, because it has made my inner child crazy. She is lonely and confused, kicking out. She feels small and not good enough and I, as my adult self, have not been able to console myself. This is scary, because this is the thing that I have been working on so hard to do. To be the adult caring for my own inner child. But somehow, I am exhausted. Maybe I’m just not ready to function here agsin yet, back as Mummy.

Let me Mama in Napoli a little while longer. I was happy there.

I’ll find my stride back here again soon, but oh, this sadness is so heavy and confusing. To be so sad after something so wonderful. To be so willing, after so long to turn back in on myself with anger after such a beautiful experience makes no sense.

So I will take a breath and be my own friend again. After all, we had such fun away from here. And now we’re home. Let’s let the fun live here too. It’s Christmas after all (at least in my house!)