Finally the Big Boy has finished pre-school – woo hoo! We celebrated by having a camp out in the garden (I say ‘we’ but I actually volunteered Grandad for the job). All was great until he came sprinting up the stairs at 5.45am (AM! I’m not going to suggest this is morning because frankly it’s not) green as the tent and then threw up everywhere. Grandad blamed the amount of Pringles consumed but I think it was down to a bug or sheer over excitement. Not quite the start to the holidays I’d envisaged – digging out sick bowls and washing carpets but there you go.
To make up for the lost day I decided to treat BB to an afternoon at Legoland, which was brilliant as we didn’t get there to 3pm but they extended the opening to 8pm – managed to do loads of rides and had a very happy boy on the way home. Feeling great that I’d conquered Legoland I ambitiously thought an outing to a farm park with the twins too would be just the ticket to ensuring the summer hols was properly swinging. Hadn’t factored in the lag exhaustion factor post Legoland, or that the twins wouldn’t have a proper sleep. Or that it would be scorching hot. We survived but only just, I was the snappy, hot and bothered mother trying to force the reluctant potty training twin to do a wee when all he wanted was to lie down in a puddle and not move, and all I really wanted to do was lie down and join him…
Lesson learnt, the rest of the week I’m planning to do very little and let the children just rampage at home. In reality this isn’t strictly the ‘easy’ option as already have had to evacuate the paddling pool after the reluctant potty trainer did a large poo in it but has to be easier than coercing them to have fun just because I’ve spent the week’s ents budget to get into a place!
