For Mr Firstooths’ birthday he asked that his gift would be for us to go to Legoland as a family. Because he’s a sweetheart. So we booked the tickets and the hotel, then waited for those days to slowly creep us on us.
This whole time I was nervous about the overnight stay, thinking Legoland wouldn’t be a letdown whatsoever. Because it’s a land of Lego, who could be disappointed with that. The night stay in the hotel however, could have been incredibly disappointing for our children. No space to play, only a few small toys that fit into the bag, no cupboard to raid, nobody shouts when juice is spilled and there was nothing to set fire to.
I will go into the overnight stay, there’s plenty to talk about there, enough for a whole separate post.
Our first day in the park was absolutely brilliant. It was a Friday so we managed to zip round the rides, wander casually around the park with out energetic babes. It was the perfect day at Legoland. This set the bar high for our second day.
So much fun, a man photobombed our special moment. Looked at the camera and everything.
Day two we rocked up with puffy tired eyes, children that woke up at 4am, with an almost bi-polar style personality and we arrived late, like 2 minutes after the park opened late. So that meant our car had to be left in the very far corner. Leaving us with a mile hike to the entrance, with our batty kids and bags filled with various items.
We swore we’d hire a stroller on this day, because although the day before went smoothly, we could have done with something to ditch the kids in when they refused to walk and our hips ached from carrying them. The stroller would mostly be for our daughter, she’s the youngest, with the smallest legs. So it made sense to us. Although once we started moving, her brother turfed her out, because he wants what she has. At all times.
We got a ride on the train to the bottom and headed straight to Miniland. The kids were fascinated by the tiny Lego towns the day before. We assumed this would stabilise their erratic mood. We were wrong. One child wanted to fly the NASA space rocket and did all he could to climb in there. While the other wanted to swim, in the murky green water of Sweden. Fantastic.
No pictures were taken on Day 2. Only Day 1.
‘Lets head to Duploland’, we thought. It’s right next door. ‘They’ll LOVE it’. It may have only been a few yards to walk but it was too much for our toddler beasts. Leading to a few yards of:
- Pick them up, put them down
- In the stroller, out the stroller
- Standing still, have a strop
Notice a pigeon
Picking a lolly stick off the floor
Racing at high speeds down the hill, then whingeing because they want to do it again
– Having heart palpitations as they head for the Splash Zone
- Tears when they were diverted away from the Splash Zone. To a dry ride
Then we were there. Stood outside a ride they could go on, enjoy, and be silent. Only they couldn’t both go on it. Obviously. Little legs was far too short. Lucky for me it was Mr Firstooth who had the job of entertaining and convincing her, the ride her brother and mummy were on wasn’t fun anyway.
It was fun. My boy drove his own helicopter, up and down, round and round and round and round and round. If you’ve been to Legoland, you know what ride I’m talking about. It was so fun he didn’t want to get off. I pried his tiny fingers from the bar and ran, as fast as I could, nearly being kicked in the head because I carried him in an awkward position.
The next ride we could all go on. But our boy decided he didn’t want his sister to join us. He just didn’t want her to go on it. But through all of his whining, he didn’t realise we were sneakily maneuvering him towards the magical boat, and before he knew it we were strapped in and moving. It was a boat ride through a valley of Lego fairytale characters. Thrilling.
We strolled round the the show area, sweating with our luggage and children all attached to our bodies somewhere, and don’t forget that sodding stroller we had to push everywhere. Which nobody wanted to sit in anyway. Unless the other was already in there.
We sat, up at the show area and I let off my sweaty steam by guzzling water (wish it was wine) and sitting, trying to keep our baby beasts contained by the fence. Then the show started.
Five extraordinarily happy girls appeared, running around the stage, dancing and miming along to music which made our toddlers do their weird toddler dances. A bop here and a wiggle there. I have no idea what the show was about, but I couldn’t stop watching it. It was one of those things I didn’t want to watch, really not my bag, but I couldn’t stop. I did have a pained and puzzled expression on my face throughout their performance. But the kids were mesmerized and didn’t moan once. Bliss.
Then it ended.
The next three rides we couldn’t go on because there was a 60 minute wait. Have you ever stood in line for only 20 minutes with 2 toddlers . There’s crying, laying and touching strangers. It’s awkward. Imagine that for three times as long, I’d want to gauge my eyes out. Especially considering the rides we were waiting for lasted around three minutes. Tops.
p style=”text-align: center;”>Another pic from Day 1. Not Day 2.
We headed to the little fairground rides instead. Which again, my small one still didn’t meet the height requirements. Instead, she decided to climb benches, rummage through bins and eat leaves.
I must have screamed “NO” a thousand times that day.
At first I almost escaped our girls’ toddler terrorism, because our boy wanted me to go on a ride with him. Only, just as we were at the front of the queue, he decided he actually wanted daddy to go on with him. ‘You are joking’, I screamed in my head. But I said “OK. Fine. That’s fine. That’s FINE”, through my teeth as I walked, well, marched him to Mr Firstooth. I took over watching our girl go from crying to laughing in a matter of seconds. This brought me to tears.
I had climaxed our second day to be just as fun as our first day, but the reality was that because none of us had much seep the previous night and we were up for the day at 4am (by force not choice), everything was overwhelming. The entire day just seemed difficult and I couldn’t wait to leave. The kids, in all honesty, couldn’t wait to leave either. They’d had enough and were desperate for a nap, but it all felt like such a waste of time, effort and money to just leave.
But it really was a waste of energy to force us all to stay while we were doing so through gritted teeth.
We stayed for as long as we could, I walked around for half the day smiling with tears streaming down my face. All very dramatic. We dragged out their whingeing, tantrums, with an intermittent bout of happy squeals for as long as possible before both admitting we wanted to leave.
We were all so disappointed, but how could we not have been with our expectations being so high.
We said to our baby beasts that because they’ve been so good today, we will go into the shop and they can choose a toy each. After my handsy girl knocked a bunch of boxes off the shelf and took everything within reach off the shelf, we left with nothing more than a tiny Lego figure each. Which they actually found at the entrance.
I’m debating whether to do a breakdown of Day 1 at Legoland, because if it’s planned and done with more than a few hours sleep, then it really is a fantastic day. It was only our tiredness and lack of organization that ruined Day 2. I think we should have booked the tickets for one day and then perhaps visited Windsor Castle on Day 2, so at least they’d have had the opportunity to roam and have a little more freedom. Which helps when toddlers are behaving beastly.
Keep an eye out for our overnight stay, coming soon…
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