Last week we had a staycation. Our family were visiting and staying in a nearby holiday park, to enjoy a holiday for themselves. Since Mr Firstooth had taken the week off, we turned it into our own little holiday, from the comforts of our own home.
If you’ve read even a couple of Firstooth blogs, you’ll know I share the bluntly honest side of our family life. Sometimes things don’t go to plan and sometimes our toddlers have their own ideas about what a ‘good day’ involves, usually lots of whingeing. So this will be no different to other posts, I will cherish the lovely moments in my memory and share with you the bittersweet joys of our week.
Lets start with the first day.
The first day would have been the travelling day of the holiday for us, but since we didn’t have anywhere to travel, I used it as an opportunity to highlight my hair. Leaving Mr Firstooth banging his head against the wall downstairs, while the tiny people fought over the Fireman Sam truck, the light saber, the horse, air that surrounded them. Everything. They were having an hour of awfulness. An awful hour. But who cares, I was too busy highlighting my hair. I even gave it a quick oil treatment.
That afternoon, once our family had arrived, we met them on the beach. From the afternoon into the evening we did have a lovely time. The weather was dry and warm, the sea was still and we even had a BBQ. The icing on this afternoon was how happy our children were. They almost had us fooled into thinking the presence of the additional family members would keep them entertained and joyful all week.
We were almost fooled. We knew better.
The second day started with heavy showers. It’s half-term, so obviously, it’s going to rain. It’s been bright sunshine right up until that very day and it’s been bright sunshine from the moment they headed home at the end of the week. It’s the sods law of British holidays. Especially in half-term.
But we’re a chirpy bunch, so we headed out onto the beach. By this time we were lucky with the weather. The heavy showers slowed to a drizzle and we only had to walk along the beach in gale-force winds. Because if we had to walk in gale-force winds and heavy showers, with toddlers, we may have just stayed home. But high winds is nothing to a Brit. We put our best shorts and flip-flops on, packed our picnic and continued with our day.
It’d be silly not to.
Strolling down the beach we all felt like our efforts and hard work deserved a break. A quick stop for our picnic lunch. We spotted the perfect location for a picnic, outdoors, yes, in amber weather warning conditions. But it was the perfect spot, to a Firstooth family member that made the decision.
Just before we reached the perfect location, which were in fact sand dunes, we stopped at a large digger, sat in front of the dunes. Having a digger obsessed son, Grandad Firstooth and I squealed with delight to my boy;
“DIGGER! SHUT THE FRONT FREAKING DOOR IT’S A DIGGER, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, OVER HERE, LOOK, JUST HERE, NO THIS WAY, LOOK”
I’m not sure if I should be concerned, but my son had terrible trouble looking for the large digger, right in front of his face. His body was facing in that direction, but his head looked everywhere but.
Both of our little ones sat proudly in the arm of the digger while we all snapped pictures. The next issue we had was getting them to look at the camera. We have dozens of pictures of them sat in the digger arm. In not one of them are they looking at the camera.
Once we’d set up pitch in the sand dunes (to shield us from wind, we’re smart like that) we started diving into our picnic bags. Tasty as it was, Mr Firstooth only actually packed half a sandwich for him and I to share and crisps. He’s never packing our picnic again. As I bit into my half sandwich I wondered why it was so crunchy. Was it because this peanut butter was from LIDL? No. It was the gritty sand blowing in our direction, attaching itself to everything we ate. Because, although we sat in the dunes to shield us from the wind, we sat the wrong side. We were open to attack.
Our next stop was the little cafe on the beach. We all had teas and my hardy little man had an ice-cream. Obviously, it’s summer.
Half way through his ice-pop, he decided he didn’t want it anymore. The clouds weren’t aligned quite how he wanted them and he chose to have a strop instead. Our boy is going through something, I’m not sure what it is, but it feels like fingernails on a chalk board.
Boy handed to his dad, ice-pop handed to his sister. Everyone’s happy.
Nobody wanted to admit they were ready to leave the beach, so we all walked that way anyway. Back in the direction of the caravan and play-park.
We couldn’t leave the beach though, until our girl dropped her ice-pop. But luckily she did this pretty quickly. All down herself and Granny Firstooth. Traipsing through damp sand, across slippery pebbles, while it was drizzling, in high winds, wasn’t challenging enough. She wanted to embrace the icy cold breeze more than we were. Dragging her Grandma down with her. Granny Firstooth had on only a bikini with her shorts and flip-flops, it is June after all.
There was our second day of our staycation. The best part of this day was the weather. The weather on this day was meant to be the best all week. Oh joy. The Chinese takeaway we all had that evening was pretty great too.
Stay tuned for more of our staycation. Make sure you don’t miss out by subscribing to receive post updates or joining us on Facebook. You’ll receive lots of sarcasm absolutely free!