holidays

We have had fun
We have fitted an awful lot of things into the six weeks.
It has rained on us and I have visited A LOT of toilets. Three little girls aged between 5-10 cannot synchronise their bladders and cannot be expected to go for more than 50 minutes without needing the loo. This may be why it took 7 hours to get to Devon at the start of August.
It may be why I have visited every toilet on the south bank between The Tate Modern and The Houses of Parliament ( sometimes doubling back to revisit!)
It is part and parcel of every summer holiday since having toilet trained kids - hunting for baby change facilities is now a distant memory.
So we have packed every bit of excitement we could, making sure that every day there was a plan for something to take place.
The first weekend grandparent had them as Mummy and daddy escaped to watch Monty Python at the O2, then the local church ran 4 days of holiday club, then they were whisked off to Granny's in outer Wales, followed by a trip to Harry Potter, which could have been blindingly expensive if i hadn't assured them before hand that I would not be buying ANYTHING from the gift shop. Also it was extremely hot that evening and the family room booked at nearby hotel was unbearable without air conditioning so a very polite and British criticism saw us with a full refund. This week also included trips to the library and art gallery.
The end of the week involved play dates followed by a weekend of packing as eldest was off on choir tour. Bereft of one child, I hijacked my Niece for a sleep over and day at soft play place. Then more packing for our epic trip to the toilet - I mean to Devon and a lovely caravan just as the weather turned not so hot.
We left a day early, having reunited with the eldest half way through our stay and drove through rainbows all the way home.
This was supposed to be the quiet week, just packing and unpacking, school shoe buying and washing and ironing, but I decided to enrol middle child into intensive swimming at a local baths. I had play date pencilled in mid week but Grandpa had a fall and we had emergency sprint to the hospital A & E two hours away from us.
We ended the final week on the  North Wales coast listening to commentators on the weather assure us that Autumn had come early - I packed fleeces, thermals and wellies to put over bikinis.
We came back on the sunniest day of the weekend. But we did not stop for the toilet - not once.

favourite childhood toys

I have a photo of myself around three years old hugging a yellow and white bear, spool forward nearly 40 years and the same bear is on my bed at my father’s house. He is faded, his mouth is missing, there are ancient Ribena stains from a teddy bear’s tea party, he smells a bit too, but if no one is looking, I give him a hug and my dad would never, ever throw him away.

The day after we brought our first baby home, my aunt sent a small, yellow real love™ bear. We put it in the Moses basket, it squeaked. We named it Winston. We have never seen another bear exactly like it and once the baby was throwing things out of pushchairs, believe me we looked for it. It no longer squeaks, I was trying to speed dry it and may have ironed it , thus sealing the plastic squeak inside it.

 The middle child has a Miffy toy, on a rare expedition to Waitrose she grabbed an identical one. This was a plan! She only ever saw one Miffy at a time until she was 23 months old and I was hospitalised with pregnancy sickness. Daddy didn’t understand the rules, from that moment she owned The Miffy Twins. They are a pest, even now they squeal in some high-pitched, made-up language that has a nails-down-the-blackboard effect on me. My husband calls them Ronnie and Reggie.

 The third child is sneaky, she discovered two Betsys early on. This was a tiny, soft bunny bought from Mothercare. It had a pretty frock, which is now in tatters and soft ears which she would chew on. I created another monster in this toy, it talks in a Columbian accent and sings “Tequila” after a chant which goes, “Your mother loves you, your mother loves you, don’t bite my ear’ole, don’t bite my ear ‘ole, don’t bite my leg! Lalalalallalala etc”. Obviously, I try to substitute the shout of “Tequila” for something more bunny rabbitty and then the bunnies tickle the child, who laughs her head off and begs for more…. Look, don’t judge me. For any of you who have ever tried to settle a fretful child, I’m sure you have come up with or will come up with some ridiculous routines. It all makes sense when you are suffering from sleep deprivation/ mastitis/ cabin fever.

So these are the must have toys. They are packed carefully into cases when we are setting off on holidays. We all check they are repacked for the return journey. Last summer we travelled home from Salisbury to the Midlands with eldest weeping as she thought she had left Winston. (she had been away with choir and done her own packing) We chided and comforted her, nothing worked. When we got home we found him in her luggage but I know if we had not, my weary husband may have turned the car around. These are not just toys, they are family.