A bit of background: I’m pretty skint this year, as always, so instead of bankrupting myself in the name of a cold British seaside holiday – or putting us all through the torture of a Pontins caravan – the kids and I stayed at a friend’s while they were away on their own family holiday.
Before you get all annoyed on the use of the word ‘staycation’, I spend a lot of time there and will probably be moving to the area in the next year or so, so it definitely counts. I won’t lie, I’d rather be at an all inclusive resort somewhere warm but there was wifi and Disney+ and no pubes in the shower, dead animals or whatever else causes people to go to their local newspaper looking sad after their shit holidays.
Here is a brief summary of our week.
Day one:
Having arrived early in the evening, my kids spent the first hour or so going through the toy box, finding everything of theirs that I had passed along to my friend’s younger kids and then holding them up to show me with very accusatory faces.
I did not think about that. I have regrets.
Day two:
After a very late night due to the excitement of being away from home in new beds, the kids woke up early, as that is what kids do dammit.
They’re at the wonderful age now where they can be trusted not to kill themselves when unsupervised, so I stayed in bed for a while. After an hour or so, I came downstairs to investigate why they were being so quiet to find them them watching TV in separate rooms; the novelty of having two TVs clearly blowing their minds.
I guess this would be OK, it’s keeping them out of trouble after all, but they were watching the EXACT SAME SHOW (Sprit Riding Free, if you’re interested. Marginally worse than Hannah Montana, but better than Pokemon in my humble opinion).
The weather was cloudy – not quite the August mega-heatwave we’d been promised. The idea of a paddling pool in the garden was quietly shelved.
No matter; we spent the morning painting pottery (sounded lovely, was pretty expensive and I’ll be honest, the finished products aren’t things I’ll be displaying proudly) and then the afternoon visiting a local friend, where the same kids that won’t go into a heated swimming pool because it’s ‘too cold’ chased each other round the garden in their pants shooting each other with water pistols while the adults drank and tried not to get caught in the crossfire.
Good solid holiday fun.
Day three:
Time for a fun day out, which is code for eighty quid plus petrol on three hours of sitting in mild drizzle while they amuse themselves on some climbing apparatus, and dinner.
Holiday parenting can basically be summed up by spending a fortune taking your kids on such expensive days out, buying them stuff and generally giving in to whatever they want because HOLIDAY only to be told it’s the worst day of their life because you had the audacity to let the Pringles run out.
Anyway, aside from it being the worst day of my smallest’s life, he seemed to enjoy it.
Day four:
In a very foolish move to get the kids out of the house to get milk (FOR THEM), I was somehow tricked into paying ELEVEN BASTARD QUID for two shit magazines. In case that wasn’t bad enough they both came with SLIME as a free gift, which I definitely do not want to get on my friend’s carpets.
They bought me around 14 minutes of peace and quiet.
In the afternoon, we decided to get the bus into town in search of food.
After playing on my phone, my six year old asked me if he could download the Rightmove app on his own tablet – however he did promise me sincerely he wouldn’t buy anything. He spent the afternoon scrolling through pictures of houses that I – let alone he – DEFINITELY could never afford and saying things like ‘I like this one!’ and ‘This has a TERRIBLE garden!’. It’s nice to have shared interests.
My favourite thing is that he thinks that there’s a possibility he could accidentally buy a house on there, and that he thinks if there is any chance he could that I’d trust him not to.
Came home via the pub. Kids at this point were about 67% sugar, no one slept and as a result everyone was tired and angry.
Day five:
Went to 4 Kingdoms Adventure Park, which was a half hour drive away. Well, supposed to be.
I’ll tell you what, having two kids in the back of the car who can read Google Maps from your phone and keep you constantly informed of exactly how many miles per hour you are going over or under the speed limit is a great treat. If you accidentally miss a turning and it has to recalibrate and adds six minutes on, you’ll know about it.
Sun peeked through at various points throughout the day. Kids had a brilliant time; I did a lot of sitting and a fair amount of drinking tea.
Due to popular request, I cooked toad in the hole for tea only to be told by my kids that they had decided they didn’t like sausages anymore. I ate a lot of sausages.
Day six:
As it was the last full day, I treated the kids to a McDonalds. Much cheaper than an actual meal out containing some kind of nutrition, but infinitely more coveted, even though the straws are impossible to drink milkshake through and the cardboard toys are objectively shit.
Smallest child dunked his melon in bbq sauce. And ate it. And then did it again. It’s weird enough that he chose melon over chips but that’s not right.
Went to the to pub again to get over the horror.
Day seven:
Time to go home.
Traffic was shit, and I needed a wee for most of the journey, but the kids were happy and told me they’d had a good time.
The best part of our holiday according to my son?
The pottery painting, the visit to friends, the farm park, the adventure playground, the meals out? The pub??
No.
Having pancakes with chocolate sauce and marshmallows on them.
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What happened to the old toys they saw in the toybox they had been annoyed at you for passing on? Or had they just got over it?!
I think with occasions then the children can get so many toys then parents get rid of old toys to make space without thinking whether the child still wants it. I feel like I lost toys too early. Although as an adult going back to some old toys it’s never quite the same.
They really didn’t care that much, to be honest. They have so many toys…