What was I thinking?
No, really. What was I thinking? Why didn’t anyone stop me when I foolishly said I was going ‘on holiday’ with my family? I even had a smile on my face when I said it, which was probably the last time I smiled (three weeks ago, if you’re asking).
What someone should have reminded me is that when you go away with small children, it is never a holiday. It is a trip.
It’s a trip because the word ‘holiday’ conjures up a certain anticipation, a vain hope that it’s going to be relaxing. The truth – as so many of you know, but neglected to tell me – is that it’s anything but.
When you go on said trip, you may have some items from home – a suitcase full of clothes and swimwear, maybe a book or two – but you don’t have all the things. And you almost certainly won’t have the one thing your child decides they cannot sleep without (such as, a 5ft 6 inch carrot called Kevin). The phrase “I want Kevinnnn” will forever haunt my dreams.
As will “I want my iPad”. Please don’t judge me, but the only way I managed to survive a solo parenting stint with my two children (two and seven) on a plane to Croatia was with the blessed distraction of technology.
After all, I was exhausted (our flight was at 6am: mistake) and alone (my husband flew out to meet us a day later). I waited until take-off, but as soon as we were in the air, screen-time commenced. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I even managed a 10-minute doze until they both wanted to go to the toilet.
Ever tried squeezing three people into a plane toilet cubicle? Exactly.
[Read More: Stacey Solomon Has ‘Gut-Wrenching’ Mum Guilt And I Know Exactly Where She’s Coming From]
However, the ghost of day one’s iPad reliance came back to haunt me. On day six or seven, while taking a quiet and serene boat trip from a remote island back to the mainland, my toddler kept up an incessant hysterical wail of, “I want my iPaddddd”. At sunrise.
He also spent approximately 10 days eating only plain rice and bananas, because any food that doesn’t come from our fridge at home is viewed with suspicion.
And despite me booking apartments with separate bedrooms, all four of us ended up sleeping in the same, small bed, because: “Why, didn’t you know? Croatia is home to the Gruffalo” (according to my two-year-old).
Still, overall, I’m calling it a success – because we survived.
Yes, there were the two full days of thunderstorms where we couldn’t leave our sparse apartment, and the WiFi cut out (kill me), and so did the lights and all power.
And yes, there was a very real and quite frightening incident when my toddler decided to fling himself into the swimming pool, and I had to fling myself in after him to pull him out.
But we came home. And if you can make it home in (almost) one piece, then that’s a win, right there.
...Is it time to go back to school, yet?