Big Green Country: An Irish Holiday

Dear Papa

I just wanted to thank you for having us to stay at your farm. Ireland has a lot more sheep and tractors than I anticipated but they seemed to keep my little brother happy so I definitely wasn't disappointed. 

Mummy had warned me in the weeks running up to our visit that I should soak up the sunshine in Scotland (not something anyone has ever heard before) as it was likely to rain so I was well prepared for the daily downpour but to be honest I barely noticed as I tended to be wet from other activities and it merely gave me a chance to test the integrity of my wellies. Note of warning, I would shop Primark for style, not substance. 

The Green, green grass of your home

If I were to cover a few highlights of my week they would include (but not be limited to):

1. Culdaff Beach
Daddy said something about blue flags but I didn't see any. What I did see was our kites flying higher than anyone elses. I know Little Brother's stayed in the sky for longer but I really enjoyed when Mummy was in charge of my unicorn and she pretended to lose control and nearly take Moomie out. That was hilarious. Moomie's face was a picture. 

I also enjoyed the water. Daddy kept complaining about the temperature and mentioned something about the "Atlantic" and icebergs but I wasn't really listening, I was too busy chasing the waves and Little Brother was putting the sand back in the sea. He really was quite worried that there wouldn't be enough in there. 

I have always wanted to go to New York and Mummy said I was nearly there at one point, I grant you she didn't look too happy about it but I think that was because she stupidly waded in fully dressed to hold my hand. Next time!

Next stop: New York.

2. Horse Riding at Tullagh Bay 
I know that I said I wanted to ride a horse but I will let you into a secret: I was terrified! I couldn't understand why my parents would think someone who cannot sit through The Gruffalo would be contented sitting astride a mammal four times her size. They really are silly. The thing is though I actually loved it! My pony, Sally, was handpicked for me and had the loveliest temperament (until another horse sniffed her bottom, which is entirely understandable, I think.) Even Little Brother got a ride, which I was told he shouldn't have as he was so small but his petted lip was so prominent that they couldn't say no. That boy has skills!

That boy has skills

3. Beaver Spotting with Moomie
My Moomie is insane. Maybe that is why we called her something different. I swear she is three shades of crazy. She travelled in the back seat between my little brother and I ALL of the time and told us that we had to shout "Beaver!" everytime that we saw the first horse of the journey. In hindsight, I am not sure that Little Brother really understood as he seemed to shout it an awful lot at what Mummy said was "inappropriate" times. I thought it was hilarious! The priest didn't seem quite so amused. 

Lols 

4. Learning to Swim
The intermittent inclement weather merely gave me time to focus on my water sports. Mummy and Daddy had been molly- coddling me for too long. Two minutes with my Moomie and I was thrashing about like no one's business. Arm bands are for losers. Sure, Mummy thought I was drowning being that there was little coordination and more splash that Pavarotti doing a belly flop but I was on the move. Frankly Papa, I nailed it. Mummy now calls me Becky but says it is hyphenated? Adlington, that's it!


5. Driving Papa's Car
I know my brother's enthusiasm may have been exponentially more evident being that he spent most of his time on the farm being resident in your car, experimenting with the various knobs and buttons that you may not have known existed but I too loved every moment of driving through the fields. I am glad that the sheep remain in fine fettle as I was a tad concerned about the one who tried to leap head first through the fence on my approach. There was plenty of room, I swear! Survival of the fittest I say.

Toddler Driving: Sheep Beware!

All in all we had the best time and I will be telling all my friends about it. My Mummy says it is perfect for toddlers as they don't seem to notice frizzing of the hair? I don't know what she means, it seemed to work wonders for my curls!

Till next time Pappy

Lots of love

Bear x

Summer In The City: A Mini-Break to London

This week we are on holiday. Now, all burglars take note. Please, have a rummage and help yourselves to as many luridly coloured plastic toys as you can fit into your swag bag. I would personally recommend anything by vtech: they seem to have set their volume levels at that of a Slipknot concert but with less musical content. A must in every house.

Anyway, I digress, going back to the holiday with having been to France only a month ago in the company of a heavily expectant member of the family (who thankfully made it back to British soil with baby still in situ), we had booked a week off after the due date in order to make the pilgrimage south and welcome the newest member of the family. We had planned to spend the majority of the week with the grandparents in rural Shropshire, introducing our city children to the concept of country walks, wildlife and village fetes but with a brief foray into the big smoke to visit cousins new and old(er).

Country chic...

The first leg of country living was a success with unprecedented good weather and access to a garden sprinkler. Minutes of entertainment. The second leg involved an arduous journey into the bustling metropolis of London town where success was brief, intermittent and cruelly interspersed with prolonged periods in a car with no air conditioning that reached temperatures hotter than the sun.

The audience with the new babe as she wriggled, sighed and mewled to perfection (as only those days into their lives can do) captivated the toddlers' attention for at least 45 seconds before they were back to rough housing their, somewhat fatigued, uncle who had been weakened by the nocturnal demands of his progeny.

Minutes of entertainment...

Our next "adventure" took us across town to the Natural History Museum where the Big One was desperate to introduce the Little One to her "best friend" Butterfly- The T- Rex. There was much anticipation as we boarded novel mode of transport after novel form of transport; there was an actual Big Red Bus followed by a "Choo Choo" that went under the ground before boarding another that travelled above the houses. They were living their best lives.

When we finally arrived they ran straight in pointing to all the signs adorned with pictorial representations of the giant reptiles with cries from the Little One of "Mummy! Mummy! Dine-e-saw!" He trotted after his beloved big sister with complete trust that she was leading him to see something that would change his life forever. "Mummy! Mummy! Come! Come!" As we entered the darkened enclosure where "Butterfly" lived and she emitted a deep, prolonged roar he hurled himself between my legs gripping so tightly that I feared the sensation would never return. With pleading eyes raised he muttered "I a bit scared. No like dine-e-saw". We tried and failed to reassure him explaining that she was no more real than his toy Dog Dog, perhaps delivering two cruels blows in one day so we admitted defeat and went to buy ice cream.

Just terrified

Next on the agenda was a visit to the Queen's house, an absolute must in the book of the pre-schooler who has made the decision that an actor's life is for her, being that she hears this is the way to become a Princess. The toddler was easily swayed with images of Julia Donaldson's Ladybird on Holiday so back on the various forms of transport we went.

Four flights of stairs, three toddler tantrums, two cramped trains and one busy change later we were there. As I pointed in the direction of the gold embellished palace with the flourish of a magician's assistant I was greeted with a look of disdain: "Urgh, can we go home yet?"

So over it...

So back into our mobile oven we went just in time to sit in gridlock traffic before extending our journey by several miles in an attempt to rock the raging toddler into sleep, all to the musical accompaniment of "It's a Small World" on repeat, for 3 hours. 

Oh, if only it was.

Old Before I Die: The Four Phases of Parenting

The past week has been spent "en famille" in the south of France. When I say "en famille" I mean, the extended variety. My husband's father reached a grand 80 years of age in the year 2018 and to commemorate this, his beloved wife of "too many years to mention" decided to treat/subject him to a week of his children, their significant others and mutinous offspring in the delightful surroundings of the sunny Dordogne. As we sat around the dinner table, umbrellas in hand, raising a glass to mark, both, his being another day closer to becoming penpals with the country's monarch and the brief absence of our progeny (although, ever eager to employ their linguistic skills they later decided to translate "en vacance" as "late night party" for the duration of our stay) I realised that we were, as a family, clearly experiencing the four stages of the adult enduring parenthood.

Evolution of the Parent 

Stage One: Unlimited Potential
My husband's twin sister is currently on the brink of adding her first twig to the increasingly thick canopy of our family tree. In fact, so close is she to sending her first child down nature's water slide that the husband has been brushing up on his knowledge of the choreography of birth just in case the subarctic temperatures of the swimming pool induce any untimely activity. In hindsight, both she and her husband have excelled at their pre-procreational state; they have run marathons, learnt languages, travelled to numerous far flung countries and found time to give back to the community. Having achieved all these, rather commendable, feats they have now shifted their attentions to starting a family. With their progeny still safely ensconced in the womb they epitomise the limitless potential of parenthood; where the possibilities and aspirations are endless and when you feel that you merely have to choose the type of parent you want to become.

Stage Two: The Thick of It
We clearly represent this stage. With a four year old who never draws breath and a two year old who can spot danger a mile off and run straight into it, our aspirations have shifted somewhat. Gone are the days when we had the time to consider how best to parent, replaced by a mere need to survive; when the hours between sunrise (0434) and sunset (2147) are spent battling to keep them alive, fed and law abiding. 

Parenting Toddlers: The Thick of It

Stage Three: Learning to Live Again
The husband's brother and his lovely wife demonstrate this plateau in parenthood; also known as the "school years". Their children are now of the age where they can mostly entertain themselves given the right tools, balls, sporting paraphernalia and IT equipment necessary. No longer are the adults being called upon to pretend to be crocodiles and attempt to catch the toes of the passing prey, now they are able to look on and marvel at how their efforts are panning out whilst learning how to best employ their new found spare time (when they are not fetching, carrying and ferrying their brood from one extracurricular activity to another or fretting about the intricacies of their pre-teen social circles).

Mostly down to the fetching and carrying one day...

Stage Four: Liberation
The in-laws now occupy the hallowed ground of reduced responsibility. Sure, they continue to weigh in and rescue their offspring in their hour(s) of need and I am sure they continue to expend far more energy than can possibly be imagined agonising over poor life decisions that their progeny may make from time to time but to all extents and purposes the baton of guardianship has been passed down the chain. With three adult children who are (almost) entirely self sufficient, they have re-entered a period of freedom that we can only dream about and live in that perfect hybrid state of being able to take pride in their grandchildren's adorable natures and daily accomplishments whilst not being responsible for moulding them into upstanding members of society and, best of all, being able to pass them back.

One day, I hope that I too shall be celebrating a landmark age surrounded by my nearest and dearest as they battle to wrangle their spirited offspring while I look on, glass of chilled wine in hand, intermittently engaging them in a brief game or illogical conversation for then I too shall pass them back.

We're Going to Family for Christmas: A Bear Hunt Parody

We're driving to family for Christmas
It's going to be a great one
What a magical time
We're not scared

Uh uh! Impromptu pee!
Stuck in a traffic jam, pee.
We can't skip over it.
We can't go around it.
Oh no!
We'll have to go through it!

Splash splosh!
Splash splosh!
Splash splosh!

We're driving to family for Christmas
It's going to be a great one
What a magical time

We're not scared

Uh uh! Vomit!
Projectile fruit pack vomit.
We can't skip over it.
We can't go around it.
Oh no!
We'll have to go through it!

Squelch squerch!
Squelch squerch!
Squelch squerch!

We're driving to family for Christmas
It's going to be a great one
What a magical time

We're not scared

Uh uh! Tantrum!
Unwelcome, unwarranted tantrum.
We can't skip over it.
We can't go around it.
Oh no!
We'll have to go through it!

Hoooo woooo!
Hoooo woooo!
Hoooo woooo!

We're driving to family for Christmas
It's going to be a great one
What a magical time

We're not scared

Uh uh! Need to be Santa!
Magical, nocturnal Santa.
We can't skip over it.
We can't go around it.
Oh no!
We'll have to go through it!

Stumble trip!
Stumble trip!
Stumble trip!

We're driving to family for Christmas
It's going to be a great one
What a magical time

We're not scared

Uh uh! Politics!
Ingrained family politics.
We can't skip over it.
We can't go around it.
Oh no!
We'll have to go through it!

Tiptoe!
Tiptoe!
Tiptoe!

What's that?

One paralyzing hangover!
Two over-hyped sugar- filled toddlers!
Two shrieking instruments of torture!
IT'S A FAMILY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Quick! Back through the family politics! Tiptoe! Tiptoe! Tiptoe!

Back through the Santa gifts! Stumble trip! Stumble trip! Stumble trip!

Back through the tantrums! Hoooo wooooo! Hoooo wooooo!

Back through the travel sickness! Squelch squerch! Squelch squerch!

Back through the roadside pees! Splash splosh! Splash splosh! Splash splosh!

Get to our front door.
Open the door.
Up the stairs.

Oh no!
We forgot to shut the door.
Back downstairs.

Shut the door. 

Back upstairs.
Into the bedroom.
Into bed.
Under the covers.

We're not going for a family Christmas again!

Toddler Christmas

#ablogginggoodtime

The Secret Life of Toddlers

As you may have gathered we are currently on holiday and we have chosen to holiday with some very good friends who have children exactly 6 months younger than ours. The two eldest are both girls whose interests include pink, purple, Elsa and fairies; and the two youngest are boys whose interests include carnage, damage and destruction. A match made in heaven, right? In all honesty the children are individually delightful and I truly believe that this is a perfect match but it also highlights quite how emotionally draining it is to be a toddler even at the best of times. The swing from best friends to arch nemesis can occur within a fraction of a second and then returns to its original status before you can say "is that how we treat our frie... Oh, right. As you were" ... It is exhausting.

I have always thought that I quite fancied a "nanny cam" situation at nursery so I could see my daughter interact with her peers. There were even brief periods where I flirted with the idea of applying for "The Secret Life of 4 year olds" so I could have a professional tell me about all the hidden aspects of her personality, "knowing" that I would be proud; that she could do no wrong.

To be honest, the vast majority of the time I have been immensely proud of her behaviour. I can see her wrangling with being swept away by the group mentality (predominantly with her brother as ring leader) and doing what she knows is right and this seems to win out most of them time.  However having spent the last seven days in a similar situation to that of "The Secret Life..." (minus the professional, that would be weird) I have learnt that I am too soft. I lack the resilience of a toddler.

They do not say things with the cruel edge with which we as grown ups interpret them. They do not have the nasty side that we as adults fear in others (and ourselves.) They do not take things to heart the way we do. They accept that they are friends who sometimes just don't get along. I think we can all learn something from a toddler.

Be more resilient. Be more toddler.

Be More Toddler!!

Holiday: It Would Be So Nice...

Top of the list for logistical nightmares must be going on holiday with toddlers. I swear there are military manoeuvres that take less organisation and negotiation skills than mobilising a family of four off this island. The obstacles to overcome include (but are by no means limited to):

1. Heat
To the average singleton, a destination that is warm equates to less of pretty much everything: less clothing, less beauty paraphernalia, less hassle. To a family with young children heat means more. More clothing, more creams and more apparatus as a consequence of heat based activities (read "swimming"). We have parasols, muslins and a variety of hats in the vain hope that one shall be tolerated and save that fresh, translucent skin from almost certain scorching.

2. Lack of NHS
This is not something the average young traveller really thinks about but when you have small children the nearest healthcare provider is at the top of the list of things to research. Gone are the Google searches for "cool things to do in Ecuador" or "nightclubs in Bucharest" and here to stay are "English speaking healthcare providers in Tenerife"... Ho hum.

3. Baby paraphernalia
Travel cots, baby monitors, prams, car seats, bottles, sippy cups, favoured formula, seat adaptors for eating out, nappy cream, travel potties, blankets, calpol... Need I go on?

4. "Essential" toddler items
Also high on the list, but not to be confused with potentially useful and necessary baby items are the "essential" toddler items. Those which they cannot live without. The things that absolutely define their being... Until you leave the house. At this point the plethora of plastic pieces, assemblage of assorted animals and the formation of furry friends will immediately be forgotten about. Left cruelly discarded in the bag in which they traversed miles across land and oceans only to see daylight upon their return to the homestead.

5. In flight entertainment
I defy anyone to have come up with the exact array of accoutrements that will entertain a child of preschool age for the duration of a European flight, never mind a long haul journey. This particularly item of hand luggage will be weighed down with small toys, iPads, headphones, snap cards, magazines, comforters and above all, snacks for bribery purposes. It shall be adorned with a popular swine based character or Disney Princess and shall be a violent neon colour. Expect to carry it.

6. The "last minute contributor"
This mantle falls to my husband who considers himself to be very organised and to the most part I would agree. However, with 5 minutes to go before departure you will find him throwing everything bar the items glued to the building into the bag "just in case" as "you never know"...

Well, I tell you what, I do know. I know we'll be paying for excess baggage. 

Oh look! We'll be trapped on that for 5hours together! Huzzah!