The bags are packed, the kids are packed and takeaway coffees are in hand – we’re on the road to Rosslare to take the ferry to Roscoff. I’m beyond excited to be going on holidays and not remotely worried (read: reasonably worried) about the potential pitfalls that might detract from our enjoyment, including:
A five year old who does not adapt well to change of any sort, even good change like being on holidays. It usually takes a week for her to settle in, so she should be fine just as we’re about to start the long drive back to Roscoff.
A four year old who likes things just so, and doesn’t agree with duvets which have plain white covers among other abominations (but we’ve preempted this by bringing her own blanket with us)
A baby who is not a good sleeper. Last year he was up from 1am every night so the “holiday” was more of an endurance test. He has recently started to sleep better for the first time in his 18 months, and I fear that a change of sleeping location is going to break him again.
A cabin on the ferry tonight in which the five of us will “sleep”. There is currently a stalemate about who will sleep where – five year old does not want to top-and-tail with her sister in the lower bunk, but is understandably not sure about the top bunk. She is emphatic that she’s having her own bed, even though this is logistically impossible under above conditions. At home we separate the baby from the noise of his big sisters in order to get everyone to sleep, but tonight we’ll be all together in a ten by eight cabin with no escape. I can’t wait.
A very long drive to our campsite – six hours, not including stops, with three small kids squabbling in the back. This is going to make the cabin seem like a night in a country hotel in comparison.
Unpredictable weather – to be fair this is true of every destination these days, but lets just say that last year we had to go emergency shopping for fleece hoodies, socks and runners for the whole family.
|maybe this is our year for non-stop sunshine|
On the upside, no matter what, it’s two weeks off work that we get to spend with our kids.
And I don’t mean that as an anti-work statement, but it will be two weeks to do things at their pace rather than at ours, to really stop and look and listen and pay attention to them.
So even if it rains, and the mobile home is damp, and the baby is up all night, it’s two weeks away from work and e-mail and internet and all the other trappings of normal daily life that take our attention from our kids. In that sense, regardless of pitfalls, the holiday is priceless.
(Though it would have been a lot cheaper to take time off work, turn off the phone, and spend two weeks being rained on at home in our house in Ireland)
|one more gratuitous holiday picture – our mobile home park will not look like this|