“We’ll fit loads in over the next few weeks,” I’d said to the kids two weekends ago, not wanting to say what I really meant, which was, “There are only twelve more days left of summer holidays, let’s make the most of it.” Because I didn’t want them on the
“The summer holidays are too long” “I took parental leave for August and I’m dreading going back to work” “The kids are up the walls and could do with some structure now in September” “I hate having to get her up to bring her to the childminder every morning when there’s
What’s your ideal holiday? If you had asked me ten years ago, the answer was easy. Reading good books, getting some sun, sleeping in, eating out. Basically relaxing. I didn’t need to go to the warmest beach or the hottest club – my needs were simple. Or so I thought.
From the first pain of the first contraction, parenting is interlaced with self-sacrifice and doing all sorts of things you’d never do if you didn’t have kids. For me, going to a theme park or fairground (or The Merries as we called them when I was a child) ticks that
Have you ever been the last one to read the book everyone’s raving about – The Girl on the Train or Gone Girl maybe? Going to Cambrils Park in Northern Spain was a bit like that for me – at least a dozen people had told me how fantastic it is,
When I go on holidays, and I do what lots of people do – I put photos up on Facebook. It’s the modern version of the postcard isn’t it – “Having a lovely time, wish you were here!” So here’s the Facebook version of one holiday, as told through the photos
Every year, bright-eyed and innocent, I look forward to going away on holidays – to reading and relaxing and resting, and to getting lots of sleep and sun. And every year, I am yet again taken by surprise to find that the holiday isn’t quite the chilled out, easygoing, restful