We’ve just booked our first family holiday.
The last holiday Dh and I had was almost FOUR years ago. We spent a week in the Cotswolds and brilliantly managed to time it so that my morning (pah! All day) sickness started in the service station on the way there. I proceeded to see almost everything we ate on the holiday – every hotel breakfast, every cream tea and every evening meal. On the first day I ate a full English breakfast…and promptly saw it in reverse mere minutes later. By the final day I was reduced to nibbling a piece of toast. I kept falling asleep at random intervals and was only ok when I was a passenger in the car, which meant Dh did a lot of random driving around. One of the few highlights was buying my first maternity bras because my underwired ones were agony thanks to my MASSIVE SORE BAZOOKAS.Our romantic holiday, booked before I found out I was pregnant, was a bit of a washout.
We haven’t managed to have a holiday since because, well, we couldn’t quite face the hassle of transporting everything the girls need to a different place for a few days and then carting it back home again. I admire people that take their small children on holidays. They must be made of much sterner stuff than I. Basically, I’m a massive wuss.
We’ve done a couple of nights away from home with the girls. Two of those were very cheaty because we went and stayed with people that already had twins so they knew what to expect. We stayed in a hotel for a wedding last year and the girls LOVED it. They strutted around the hotel like they owned the place and thought being ‘grown-up’ was simply brilliant. That, coupled with the fact that the girls are toilet trained and desperate to do anything that might involve being ‘grown-up girls’ inspired us to think that maybe we could all cope with a proper holiday.
So, we’re off to <insert name of well-known UK holiday park> for five days in May. To compound our
stupidity bravery we’re doing a Monday-Friday break, so the girls will miss three whole days at nursery. This is completely and utterly unheard of. It nearly put Dh off the idea completely but I managed to persuade him that we wouldn’t all kill each other on the third day….
Best of all, it’s at the start of three weeks off work for me in May and June, so I have two weeks at home to recover afterwards.
Whoop! Whoop! 🙂