Friday, 25 November 2011
Tales from the F*#king Beach
We went to the beach for a weekend getaway. It followed a week of agonising behaviour from Firstborn son. 3.5 year old behaviour swings from delightful to dastardly.
My little fella surprises me everyday with his gorgeous ideas and spontaneous cuddles, but Oh Boy, can he whinge! My brain was so spun in knots from the constant muuuuuuuuuummmmmmmying and screaming that it made me fall over last Tuesday with babe in arms. Not kidding.
So the decision was made to escape for some fresh sea air. Gentleman took Friday off, we packed the car and went to stay in a friend's vacant beach side home for 3 relaxing, care-free and fun days.
Relaxing it was not. I can't even remember what care-free is, but some fun was had.
All I wanted to do that first morning was get to the beach before it got too hot and baby needed a sleep. So a whirlwind of baby feeding, breakfasting, cleaning, finding, packing and sun screening (seemingly all done by moi) ensued with Firstborn whinging his way through it all. When it came time to leave he refused to put on his shoes and started screaming, I finally cracked. I got down on my knees and sobbed. For five minutes I was Martyr Mum with my complaints that nothing I ever did was good enough, crying that nothing I do will ever keep you happy. Gentleman tried to coax me out of the black with a 'Come on Babe, it'll be OK once we get there'. With graciousness-not, I replied, 'OK, let's go the the f*#king beach then and get it over with'. I'm classy like that in anger.
Walking out the door, Firstborn turns to look at me and ask 'Mummy, are you happy? Are we going to the f*#king beach now?'. Yup, I know. First class parenting exemplified.
And yes, it was fun once we got there.
Does any parent ever relax on a holiday with young kids? If you do, spill because I really need some hints!