They walked, giggled, and walked some more. Just three girls with Prader-Willi Syndrome. Three girls with hypotonia, ignoring their weak muscle tone as they made their way from pirate ships to dinocars and back again, up and down hilly, hilly paths.
It had been a logistical feat to get my daughter up north for the theme park trip, organised for a PWS buddy’s birthday. We’d stayed with family the night before after a three hour car journey. My husband was working so I had my little boy with me, too, which meant I’d decided to taxi my girl to and from her friend’s house and not accompany the group, as I didn’t think she'd want her brother cramping her style. In any case, the crack squad of two PWS mums were enough to deal with the three girls (and one little sister). If they’re reading this and swearing at me, I’m sorry, all right? (I’m not, really).
Instead, I kept the little lad happy with a trip to a zoo and a Pokemon hunt. I made a woman spit out her drink in a wine bar in Uppermill, when my son caught a Pidgey and I told him with a serious face that wine bars and pubs were obviously excellent venues for Mummy, Auntie Jill and Uncle Kevin to hang around in in order to help him catch more Pokemon, and we should visit some more.
My girl slept a deep, happy, exhausted sleep. I think the two PWS mums did too. Apparently, those hills really were hilly.
Song is Tom Waits - Top Of The Hill