The problem with a week’s holiday is that no matter how great it is, it’s just never enough.
And you always end up more exhausted than when you went away.
Last week we had a brilliant time in Bognor at Butlin’s (or Budlins as my toddler called it).
He absolutely loved it and kept asking to go into the ‘big tent’, on the ‘round-round’ (the carousel to you and me) and absolutely beamed when we met Bob the Builder who I think must be his hero.
Naturally my husband and I wanted to make sure our son was entertained while at the same time having loads of family fun – and perhaps a little sit-down at the end of the day!
But before we knew it we were on our feet all day, bouncing from one activity to the next and ready for a family afternoon nap.
Now before my little man arrived I was never really one for sitting down on holiday and would always be the one dragging my husband around.
It seems fate is getting it’s own back on me.
And while father and son had a lovely time together posting pennies into the slots and in the soft play area, I found myself spending time in the laundry room washing and drying our swimming costumes and towels. The joys of being the mum while on holiday, I guess.
Anyway before we knew it, suddenly it was Friday and time to go home.
Still at least I was safe in the knowledge I could have a bit of a rest and a sit-down over the weekend.
Wrong! Why? Because in a fit of madness I decided it was a great idea to plan my week’s break the day before going to London to see Take That.
And my gorgeous son was having a sleep-over at his grandparents with his little cousin while my hubby enjoyed a night out.
So after getting home and unpacking, washing, ironing and eventually having a cup of tea, I had to then think about packing a bag for London, and packing my little man’s bag too. Cue more washing and ironing when I get home!
The concert was amazing and our holiday was brilliant, but I’m officially exhausted.
I think it must be time to book my next holiday!