When you take the brood on holiday…

…sorry, sorry, sorry, SORRY.  I know I’ve been rubbish and hardly updated, but things are a little mental, work is busy (LOVE it), children are busy (could do with that calming down) and I’m so tired I fall asleep on the sofa (embarrassing but true).

Lot’s gone on recently.  I’ll try and update more frequently on the following subjects:

– Chicken Pox

– Larry sitting up

– Nursery being OTT

– My failing quest to lose weight

– My reporting Ryanair to Watchdog (trying to make a 2 year old SIT ON HIS OWN ffs).

But first.  The holiday.

Every year we need to go away, to Matt and I it’s a life line, we need the sun.  Just a week of relaxing to get away from reality.  Sadly tho’, now we have kids, you never get away from reality.

So we booked a week in a villa in Lanzarote.  Lovely.  We’ve been abroad with Theo quite a few times, but this was our first holiday with both the kids.  I’ve made the following observations.


I’m not renowned for my ability for packing light, so now with the added bonus of nappies, wipes, formula, bottles, sun cream, baby food blah blah blah I struggled.  I’d struggled when it was just Theo let alone Pieboy tagging along.

However, saying that, I’ve made a breakthrough….I only took one pair of shorts, and three pairs of shoes.  This may not sound a big deal, but for me it’s HUGE.  (we wont talk about how many clothes I’ve packed for the kids – this doesn’t count they NEEDED every single outfit).

The Airport, boarding the plane & flying.

Gone are the days of checking in and settling into the airport bar with a magazine and a G&T.  Gone are the days of trundling to the gate and clambering onto the plane with just a pashmina caught under your feet to hold you back, and most disappointingly, gone are the days where you can order an alcoholic beverage, read your book, listen to your music and have a doze on the plane.

Instead, it’s a military operation.

Check in – Make sure toddler doesn’t leg it.  Make sure check in staff believe passports actually do belong to your children (photos taken at 3 months old, children at that point 5 months and 2 and a bit year).

Security – again, make sure toddler doesn’t leg it (you’ll see a theme soon), get all milk and formula out of bag and put in tray, remove all your items, fold down push chair, pass children between each other as you go through the gates, taste water, taste formula, pack everything back into bag, redress yourself (shoes/belt/bracelets etc), make sure toddler doesn’t leg it. *phew*.

Departures – entertain children.

Boarding – LEG it to gate, push to front, attempt to board plane first.  Fail due to steps, you having a push chair and this confusing the dumbass staff.  Please note you also have 3 carry on bags, a toddler who suddenly is incapable of using their own legs, and a baby that weighs the same as your living room sofa.  Eventually get on plane, discover there are no seats together.  Explain to stupido staff that no, a 2 year old can’t sit on their own, they can’t even go to the toilet themselves let alone sit in on a 4 hour flight 5 rows away from his parents (although seeing the faces of the passengers next to suggested seat was nearly worth it).  Finally thank profusely the kind members of the public who give up their seats.

The Flight – 16 visits to the toilet because toddler is scared of the toilet (don’t blame him), finally convince him to wee in the sink.  This actually makes me feel smug due to the treatment Ryanair gave us.  Bring out several tricks for entertainment, chocolate, MP4 players, puzzles, fuzzyfelt, books, stickers, crayons, biscuits, smoothies, cars, diggers etc.  Also feed baby on take off and landing.  Catch sick from baby.  Change babies entire outfit twice due to pooh explosions.

Baggage, car hire etc.  I wont go into…they mainly consist of “make sure toddler doesn’t leg it”.

The actual holiday

You’re there, it’s hot, it’s sunny, the hot tub is calling, the supermarket shop has been done (making sure toddler doesn’t leg it)…so what do you do? No more book reading, sangria drinking lazy afternoons in the sun…NO you play. play. and play.  Don’t get me wrong, this is enjoyable, however I’m a book reading sun worshipper, I’ve been known to read 10 books in a two week holiday (I feel I need to declare that these are chicklits such as Shopaholic, Jackie Collins and Bridget Jones nothing deep….ooooh, unless Dan Brown counts as deep?!), this time I managed 1.5.

The evenings however are LOVELY, bath, bed, SLEEEEEP DAMN YOU *cough* sorry, the little darlings go to sleep…nice BBQ with prawns, nice bottle or two of rosehosejose and a splash in the hot tub, before passing out.

bish.bash.bosh.  The two of us are going away on our own next month, a necessity to recover from the family trek.


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