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Elvi rocks out to ACDC at the cinema The Sun WomanParentingSomeone Special#mySunComments#mySunComments#mySunComments#mySunComments#mySunComments
Funny the places you suddenly feel blessed.

It happened to me last week next to Zippo's Circus Big Top in a Dorset field.

We were on the first part of our hols - Camp Bestival, the brilliant kid-friendly festival curated by Radio One DJ Rob Da Bank and his incredibly creative wife Josie.

We'd parked our hired campervan in the disabled field in the shadows of the stripey Big Top and the Helter Skelter.

Our mates and their kids pitched their tents around us to create a guy-roped mini-village.

Ridicuously as the sun fell on the first day I felt a rage building.

I realised I was going to be the one left back at the campervan in the evenings.

While everyone else was enjoying Madness (who I'd seen before) or Human League (who I wasn't that keen on the first time round) with their kids I'd be back at the van because Elvi would be the only one who couldn't cope with the noise.

This was completely unfair of me. Why should anyone else be expected to look after my children? Why should my rather lame needs come before those of my daughter?

Sulking like a teenager I transformed our campervan into the bedroom of dreams for my two kids and stuck Jungle Book on the portable DVD player hoping one of our mates would be struck by tiredness and, even though I hadn't thought to ask them, come back and look after my children.

Pressing play turned me into the Pied Piper of disabled camping, suddenly loads more children, some of whom we'd met, some we hadn't, clambered up the steps wanting to watch.

They crammed into the van and I poured a glass of wine for myself in a bright pink plastic Ikea kiddy cup.

Then all hell broke lose. One of the visiting girls' mums That me! didn't know where she was and not knowing us assumed she'd gone missing.

She had the field locked down by security guards. O yes!

Any vehicles leaving disabled were searched. One of our party heard the kerfuffle on their way back to our pitch.

We realised what had happened and reunited distraught mum Me again and confused daughter Izzabelle, who just wanted to see what happened to Mowgli.

The shaken young family turned out to be from Norfolk. and....???...ooohh~arrrr....

Not only did they have 8-year-old Jenny Thats Izzabelle, who turned out to be partially deaf, with them but their ten-year-old son and thats Kyron and a three month old baby Daisy.

I poured them some wine in blue and green Ikea kiddy cups to calm the parents' nerves and they told us how their beautiful baby was born with Adams Oliver Syndrome. Well needed!

We assumed she was wrapped in blankets against the night cold but it turned out her skin and scalp hadn't formed properly and they were actually bandages.

Her dad had given up work to look after her.

The family had saved to afford this weekend away to give their other children the break they deserved. They would have no other holiday this year.

They proudly showed us pictures of their baby.

Later they dropped back to give us their few beers as a thank you.

In the shadow of Zippo's big tent I (The face I will never forget,thankyou)counted my blessings, then my mother-in-law watched the kids and I caught Madness's last tune - It Must Be Love.

My family fell apart when Daisy was born, the kids where in total shock,we all were. We had arraged to book a holiday to Disney land in France, and even had the money!. That all got cancelled, the money flitted away, and the kids were,yet again let down. So without Nanny and Grandads aproval we went last minute to Dorset,Tents,No tickets!,but we went. It suited us there were 24hour medics,use of a fridge,Disabled camping and the Fesival was a real family avent,I didnt meet anyone who didnt have kids. We argued all the way,the kids screamed,..... Then we got there, I'll never know if it was the place,the working together,the being away from home ??? but something click that weekend and that was my family,Click tight back as one,. Totally what we needed..